Waking up without you
It doesn't feel right
To sleep with only memories
It's harder every night

There was a single picture. Among all the emptiness he had left, there was a single picture. It was the only thing that kept this reality from seeming like a delusion. Just this one picture. This one old picture.

It was harder to sleep at night. It was slowly getting to the point where Hayner would need medication to knock him out before he went into a sleep deprivation coma. Every night, he'd shed his pants for bed, turn around, take Seifer's picture from the night stand and hug it to his chest as he cried curling around the single remaining remnant of what could have been.

The bed he slept on felt big, empty, and alone now. He felt cold and abandoned. There was nothing left. Nothing to prove that his lover had ever existed except for this picture that had represented his hopes and dreams. Now it just reflected his heart break.

Sometimes, while he was holding that picture, hugging it so close, pulling his legs in closer to his torso (Maybe, just maybe if he got close enough Seifer would come back.) he'd feel Seifer's breath on his neck, his arm around his waist and hear his teasing chuckle at how much of a "chickenwuss" he was being. Those were the times he'd stiffen, but as soon as that was done the feelings were gone and he just cried harder.

He dreamed of the happy times he had with Seifer. Of the time they were rivals and would practically kill each other everyday. Those were the good days. They had both missed those days. But now Seifer was gone and not even hating each other could come back. You can't hate someone who doesn't exist.

Every morning he'd wake up expecting to see Seifer there by his side in the bed. In a way he was though. The picture, no matter where it had been in the house before was always in the bed with him. But a picture couldn't smile at you and say good morning before kissing you and getting up to prepare for the day. All a picture could do is stare at you. It couldn't offer you warmth or protection. Just memories from either good or bad times. All the picture gave him was Seifer's smiling face.

He couldn't sleep again. He never could anymore. Seifer's picture was being held tightly to his chest by his left arm as he fell heavily against the window, propping up a hip on the sill. The stars twinkled in the sky, the few he could see through the city lights anyway, but they were there. And they were mocking him. They could continue shining though anything. They were perfect. They didn't have feelings. When a different star died they didn't miss it or morn it's loss. They couldn't feel.

But Hayner could. He hated the stars for that. He hated God for that. If he was up there, if he was all powerful, if he was all loving, then why did he have Hayner suffer through this? Hayner wasn't a bad person, he knew this. Sure he did a few bad things every now and then, but everyone did. He didn't have this much bad karma.

Yet it happened.

He presses his right hand against the sturdy glass of the window. He pushes against it as he fights back tears. His flat palm becomes a fist as the tears still manage to leak through. He did everything he could. God had to owe him a favor or two by now. He just had to. It wasn't fair!

He punctuates this thought with hitting the window hard as his silent crying started to turn to uncontrollable sobs. He hits the widow a few more times, the picture clattering to the floor as he released his left hand only to let it curl to a fist and hit the window too. He slowly starts sliding down the wall, still hitting anything, everything. (Maybe the more he hit it the more likely Seifer would wrap his arms around him and all would be okay.) He could taste the salty tears in his mouth, reminding him of the times he and his friends would have ice cream on the clock tower. This memory only made him cry harder. He had lost everything that ever mattered to him. It was all gone.

There was a crack in the glass of the picture frame.
*~*~*~*

Hayner's days blurred. He didn't even know how no one worried. He felt dead. Every second was spent thinking of Seifer. Wondering how he could get him back. How he could find him. It all seemed hopeless. Doomed from the start.

All he wanted was to hear his voice again. To be able to wake up in his lover's arms and know everything would be alright, no matter what. He wanted to be able to touch him, feel him, kiss him senseless, to take his frustrations out on him. A few punches thrown would help. But he needed his Seifer before anything could be done.

He couldn't go to bed alone. He couldn't fall asleep on that empty bed. He couldn't touch it without remembering that Seifer had been there. That he had slept there. That they had made love there.

It all felt so far off.

He needed Seifer to be there with him. He couldn't be alone not in this bed. Not in bed at all. He needed to be able to feel Seifer's warmth resonating beside him, to hear the deep even breathing of his sleep. He needed all the things he would never again have.

(One of the worst things is there's no one to worry.) Hayner needed a caretaker. Someone to force him back up on his feet. Someone to encourage him to take steps forward. Someone to keep him from living in the past.

He needed a friend.

Too bad he didn't have them anymore.

(They all abandoned me first. Everyone leaves me. I've always been alone.) After the thoughts play out he realizes it's true. He's never left a single person in his life. He's never moved away from friends. Never ignored them. He was always there when needed but... But everyone had left him. This made him wonder if anyone had cared in the first place.

He shifted violently in the bed, jarring the nightstand and making the picture fall. Another crack.

The slowly shattering frame had to mean something. Hayner just knew this. It had to mean something. Yet the frame meant something too, so he wouldn't change it. Even if he did, the picture would crumble to dust in his hands, erasing everything he knew as real. It was the last remnant. He couldn't mar it with fingerprints or a new frame. This frame belonged to the picture and the picture to it.

Hayner stared at the picture. He could remember this day. They had just knocked the shit out of each other and were scraped and bruised and bleeding in many places. Seifer had pinned him to the ground and caught up in the heat of the moment had kissed him. Not one to back down, Hayner retaliated. His friends had just left him. His last friend had just abandoned him. He was in every right.

This was how the concept of "them" had started. This picture was taken by Hayner himself with a disposable camera he couldn't remember where he got or how old it was. They both had an arm slung around the other's shoulder, Hayner with his bright smile and still bleeding busted lip, Seifer with his smirk and a growing bruise on his cheek.

It was timeless, perfect. Like the sound of Seifer's confession that still rang in his head sometimes. His deep voice stirring his insides every time. He just needed to hear those three words again. Just once. He needed the voice, the warmth, the feeling. He just needed to be able to kiss him good-bye. Even if it was a single final time.

But it was too late.

And Hayner pulled on the sheets on the bed making the picture falling to the floor again. Yet another crack was formed. Hayner still refused to change the frame.
*~*~*~*

This feeling will never go away. He just knew it. He could only see Seifer through the lone picture or through his memories. It was never easy, only seeing something through what's already happened. It's never the same either. Memory is faulty. It can't be trusted. The brain can make and erase memories.(Maybe none of my memories are real.)

It's not easy. It's never easy. Never has been, never will be, but he'll suffer through it. The only person he ever wanted, the only person he ever wanted to never leave his side. The only person that could very well kill him by leaving had left. (Maybe I'm just not good enough.) but He'd force himself to survive. To keep fighting. To keep trying. He never gave up when I came to Seifer before, why should he start now? He could come back.

(What am I saying? Why would he come back?) And he can't help but feel stupid. Everyone in his life has abandoned him, whatever made him think Seifer would be different? Their relationship was unlikely. In one instant they went from pound each other's heads in to frenching like there was no tomorrow. There was no reason or logic to it.

Of course there was no reason or logic to either Hayner or Seifer either.

If it was at all possible to fix whatever was wrong with him. To correct whatever it is that makes people leave him like this, he would have done it by now. He would have done it a long time ago. And Seifer would never have left. Nor Olette or Pence. Nor Roxas. This wasn't something he could fix on his own, if only he could ask the others what was wrong with him.

But they cut him out a long time ago.

Hayner knew it was hopeless at that point. He could die and absolutely no one would care. (How long would it take for them to notice my absence and find my body if I killed myself?)

This wasn't easy. It never was.
*~*~*~*

He was leaning in the window again. This time he put Seifer's picture on the desk where he could easily see it and not crack it again. It was new moon so there were a few more visible stars in the sky. He wanted to shoot them all down. Until there wasn't a single star left. Why did he keep looking at them? They only made him lonely.

(Maybe that's the point. Maybe that's what I want. What I need.) Hayner shakes his head and looks at the picture again. Their smiles in the single eternal thing in the room mocked him too. They were so god damned happy then. He hated it. But he couldn't let it go. He couldn't destroy the picture. It was too symbolic. To precious.

"Where are you God?" Hayner whispers, surprising himself, it had been forever since he had actually heard his own voice. "Where have you been this whole time? Where are you when I need you? You're never there. I've waited, and waited. I've been good. I haven't done anything wrong. What the hell are you punishing me for? My whole fucking life I gave my all and then some for anyone and everyone who needed it. I did every fuckin' little thing that anyone needed if they asked. Yet I'm here. Alone. Forgotten. Abandoned. Why? Why do you hate me?"

Hayner retrieves the picture before going back to the window and opening it. "Can you hear me God? I hate you! I fucking hate you. You only care about yourself. You only do things that benefit you. Has it ever crossed your fucking giant-ass cocky bastard of a head that maybe we people down here want to be happy? To be loved too? You're just a selfish good for nothing asshole! Why do people worship you lousy excuse for a God?" He yells out into the night before he involuntarily started screaming. Screaming he was familiar with. He could scream. He could scream and scream and scream until his heart stopped.

When he couldn't scream any longer tears streamed down his cheeks and his limbs felt leaden and weak "God dammit," He weeps into his hands falling onto his knees. He dropped the picture.

He awoke the next morning to soiled sheets and to see three small yet new cracks in the frame. He puts the picture where I belongs before changing the sheets. What used to be good dreams only made him hurt more.
*~*~*~*

(Whatever happened to everything we had planned?) Hayner wonders sitting at work. He still didn't know what he was doing- not consciously anyway- but if it was what he was supposed to do, he wasn't going to stop.

Seifer and him had made plans for the future. They were going to happy together for the rest of their lives. They were going to get as married as they could get, both being guys. Maybe even adopt a kid or two if either of them could go a full day without swearing.

They were going to travel the world. They both knew that one would never happen- that They'd never have the money for it- but they'd watch things about different countries and pretend they were there. It was one of their favorite things to do. (What happened to all of this? What happened to everything?)

This is where he finally went into that long awaited coma. It was a peaceful sleep.

For a long while, Hayner didn't dream. He didn't know how long, but he knew it was a while. When he finally did, though, it started out pitch black. He could see himself standing in the darkness that exists when nothing else does. He watched as the scenery slowly started to come in, like a painting. The sunset came in in strokes of light, pale colors shooting across the sky. Slowly the sound of crashing waves from an ocean were heard as an ocean was slowly appearing not too far off. Slowly the heat from the newly developing sand was felt in between his toes and on the bottoms of his bare feet.

Slowly he starting turning looking for someone- anyone- and once he had done a full one- eighty he saw Seifer. His Seifer. Paintbrush in hand, easel and canvas in front of him with his paints. Hayner's face lights up and he sprints towards his Seifer. His boyfriend, his lover, his artist. The one that had painted this all for him.

He launches himself and hits the other blonde with enough force to send them tumbling, Hayner making sure neither of them hit the canvas. He knew this was still just a dream, but it felt so real. He would enjoy it while it lasted.

*~*~*~*
Hayner slowly blinked open his eyes, still seeing him and Seifer laying in the sand on the beach whenever they closed. Slowly that picture faded and he saw where he was.

The room was completely white. The sorry excuse for "clothing" felt papery and uncomfortable and had a huge hole in the back. His left arm was cold and he could feel tape holding in a needle. His toes were almost frozen and he shivered a couple times trying to get used to the cool temperatures in what he knew to be a hospital room.

He groans and stretches, in turn alerting someone who was asleep in a chair in the corner. This other person makes a noise, making Hayner's head whip around to look at them before a grin almost broke his face in two.

There in the chair was Seifer.

No words needed be exchanged as they looked at each other, Hayner's eyes displaying all the disbelief, relief, and happiness he felt. Seifer's eyes betraying his sorry.

Hayner knew he shouldn't, but he did anyway. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, almost falling when he stood. Seifer rushed to his side to steady him.

Hayner's eyes filled with tears as he threw himself in the gap of only a few inches and kissed Seifer like there was no tomorrow. (He's back. He's honestly and truly back... Fuck, I've missed him.)

Seifer pulls away from the kiss as Hayner's cries turned to sobs. The elder one smiled a small smile before pulling him to his chest. Hayner returns the hug and through the tears of joy, can't stop himself from letting his hands dip into the back of his lover's pants. Seifer chuckles pulling his boyfriend's hands out of his pants, whispering promises in his ear for when they got home.
*~*~*~*

Hayner was released from the hospital fairly easily. The doctor told him to make sure to sleep well and Hayner had nodded enthusiastically. He wasn't going to have trouble anymore.

When they got into the room, Seifer looked at the battered picture frame before smiling and pinning Hayner to bed. The had dropped so fast that is shook the bed making the picture fall to the ground and the glass in the frame to shatter. Neither of them had noticed.

After they had mad up for a bit of lost time, Seifer pulls the sheets over both of them snuggling behind Hayner, wrapping his arms around the younger's waist and whispering a simple confession of love in his ear. It was all Hayner needed. He had his Seifer back. And tomorrow he would call Roxas, Pence, and Olette after finding their phone numbers. Just because they left him doesn't mean they can't start over. It was what he and Seifer were doing.

(God... thank you... for everything. I'm not alone anymore. I'm not sad anymore. He's back. It's almost like he never left.)

The picture and it's frame stayed shattered and torn on the ground throughout the night, the memory simply watching over the two to keep them safe and their dreams happy.

The frame had meant something. As soon as it broke, Hayner wouldn't need it anymore. There's a meaning in everything. You just have to look hard enough to find them. The picture wasn't needed, the frame was changed and it was put out in the living room where they ignored it in the everyday buzz. It wasn't needed. They went on to take more pictures, to make more memories. To begin the rest of their life.

Hayner didn't have to go to bed alone anymore. It was never empty. He never woke up to nothing. It was almost like that period of his life was a really long nightmare slowly fading from memory, in time to be erased by newer ones.
Don't leave me alone, don't leave me alone
Don't leave me alone in this bed