Hey guys, I know I haven't finished any of my previous fanfics on here but I've been wanting to write this for a while now. I warn you, it is about two real people (PewDiePie and ChaoticMonki) but I started recently liking the pairing PewDieCry so I went ahead and wrote this. Right now I currently have about three other chapters written (they're uploaded on my dA if you'd like to go ahead and read that instead of waiting for updates on here). I'll probably update this story once a week so that it won't catch up with the one on dA and so that you guys won't have to wait endlessly for new chapters.

Also, I'm taking a haitus on my Sonic stories. I don't know how long it's going to be, but since my interest in Sonic has diminished quite a bit (probably just need to play a Sonic game to help me find inspiration) I don't feel like updating any of my Sonic fanfics.

Anyways, enjoy the story.

Prologue

It was dark; the air around him musty and stale. His friend was gone, swallowed up
by the shadows of the night. Both of them had lanterns and a few tinderboxes, but he was the only one with extra oil and Cry knew that his friend had left with only the little amount he had in his own lantern. He had insisted, demanded even, that Pewds should take whatever oil Cry had leftover; however, the blond had declined, telling him not to worry, that he'd be fine. He even had made the point that Cry, whom was badly injured from a run-in with one of the monsters, would need it more considering his inability to move and the lack of light and candles around the room he was currently stuck in. The masked man still argued, not wavering, never budging, but still the Swedish male only took some of the American's tinderboxes, and a sanity potion, leaving the oil and a promise of return behind with the other.

His friend was taking too long. It seemed like an eternity since he had heard the sound of a Grunt, and even longer so since the departure of his blond-haired friend. Ever since then, Cry's paranoia and worry grew, becoming a hungry monster that swallowed his mind whole, leaving only skittish and broken thoughts behind in its wake. What if he had gotten lost, or was starving somewhere in an unknown area of the castle? Maybe he had gone insane and was killing everything in his path. He could be dead, or dying somewhere. Or…He could've forgotten about me. For some reason, the idea of his closest friend forgetting about him bothered Cry the most. Not even the thought of his friend's body lying around somewhere, lifeless, was as scary of a thought to him as being forgotten. He wasn't exactly sure why, but the thought was unbearable to him and even made him want to cry. So, he tried pushing away those feelings and suspicions, trying to bury them in the back of his mind, but they never stayed still, never stayed suppressed, and they kept taunting him until he couldn't take it anymore.

He cried out his friend's name, even though he knew it was suicide to do so, but let him be damned if he didn't try despite the danger. He just wanted to hear PewDie's voice again, his accent, the way his voice always seemed to have a hint of joy in it; he wanted to hear it all again. The longing of seeing his friend's face once more, to see him safe back with him, was crushing him, effectively stifling his voice until his cries came out in short, sobbing bursts.

It was no use; his friend was either dead or not coming back, he was sure of it. So it was a surprise when footsteps could be heard coming towards him, and the voice of the man with an unmistakable accent calling his name. "P-Pewds; Pewds, over here," Cry's voice was soft but desperate; he could only hope that his words would reach his friend.

It had. His friend's footsteps grew closer to him, and his voice was much clearer as he inquired, "Cry? Cry, are you okay? Does your wound still hurt?"

The pain was still there, but the thoughts of his friend had driven it out of Cry's mind; however, when PewDie mentioned it, the pain in his back seemed to double, triple even, making it nearly possible to speak. "Y-Yeah, a little," was all Cry could manage, clenching his teeth. "But I'm alright, I guess."

"Heh, that's good. I was worried about leaving you here, but I finally found it Cry; the last bottle of Laudanumum." He reached in and took it out of his pocket, smiling. "Here, take it."

Cry reached out hesitantly. He wanted to take it, but something was wrong. Staring into PewDie's light blue eyes, he gasped; they were dull and glazed. Blood seemed to be splattered in his hair, and, when looking at his chest, his light blue "Brofist" shirt was stained crimson. "Pewds…What happened?"

PewDie looked confused for a second, but following Cry's gaze to the blood on his shirt, the confusion vanished and he chuckled quietly. "Oh, this," he tugged on his shirt, drawing Cry's attention to the stain once more and out of his already fading world. "It's nothing, really. I just…Had a run in with a Bro, that's all."

The brunette bit his lip, hating what he was going to have to do but knowing it was unavoidable. "Felix," it was the first time Cry had used PewDie's real name since they had gotten into their situation, and it sparked worry in PewDie's heart. "I want you to take it."

"Take what Cry?" He asked, but he already knew what Cry was talking about; the Laudanum, the only thing that could heal their injuries. There was only enough for one person, though, and both knew the other would die without it.

"The Laudanum…" He murmured, the strength in his left arm failing him. "Take it; I want you…to have it…F-Felix." His vision started to blur, flickering in and out of darkness. A sad smile graced his lips, "Everything will…Be okay Pewds; I'll be okay. Please, take it." He sounded desperate, maybe trying to convince himself that his words were true despite the fact that he was dying right in front of the blond.

"No, you need it more than I do, Cry. Trust me, I'll be fine." PewDiePie opened the small glass bottle and held it up to his friend's lips, bright blue eyes shimmering in the darkness, as if they were holding unshed tears. "So please, live, for me." With those words came a sorrow born in the Swedish male's heart as he forced his comrade's mouth open, pouring the crimson liquid down his friend's throat.

Cry sputtered, but was forced to swallow the bitter liquid. The crimson drained from the bottle quickly, and only when a few drops clung desperately to the glass container did Felix move it away from Cry's lips.

Cry felt better almost instantly, the pain seemingly disappearing with every second that passed. But as the pain disappeared, so did PewDie's strength, and when the healing process was done, the blond had already collapsed onto the cold stone floor. "Pewds," the name was just a whisper upon the brunette's sculpted lips, barely leaving the opening of his mouth as if they were afraid. "Why…Why did you…?"

"Shh, don't worry about it, Cry." Their famous joke, now used seriously, trembled as it hung in the thick air. "I'll be alright." His voice was soft and calming, but it wasn't enough to console the trembling brunette.

"No, please, stop lying to me." His voice was desperate and full of crushing sorrow. Dense tears ran along the natural curve of his face until they landed on PewDie's pale cheeks. "You're not fine and I don't…" He took a shaky breath, sobs threatening to escape him. "…I don't know how to save you. I don't know what to do…Please, tell me what to do."

"Kiss me." Cry had been refusing to look at his pale friend, whether it was because looking at PewDie in such a state would make the realization that his friend was going to die final, or the fact that he was angry at the Swedish blond for lying to him, was uncertain. But, at the sound of PewDie's voice and the request it had delivered, Cry looked down at his friend in surprise. His cheeks flushed a rosy color, and his eyes widened under the white poker face mask. PewDie whispered the words again, this time with less volume than before. "Kiss me, Ryan."

Cry bit his lip nervously, slowly reaching towards his mask. PewDiePie scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, looking up at him with a questioning gaze. Cry cracked a small smile, saying, "I can't kiss you with my mask on." But his movements were hesitant, uncertain, and they were quickly running out of time. Noticing the light leaving PewDie's blue eyes, Cry yanked off the mask, tearing the plastic strap that had held it on his face for so long, and threw it across the room before hastily locking his lips with the others in a desperate attempt at survival.

At first the kiss was forceful and rushed, but as seconds went by it became tenderer and more gentle, tasting of salty tears. But all too soon did their lips part, and only then did Cry realized that he was in love with the man dying before him. It was such a cruel fate, to be in love with someone dying, and it tore at Cry's heart, ripping it into pieces. Sobs racked his body, sorrow finally escaping the prison of his mind. PewDie looked at him concerned, asking, "Cry?"

"Pewds…Why is it that I didn't know that I loved you…Until you were…" He couldn't finish his sentence, his voice failing him at the last second. He balled his hands into fists and he squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking out of his eyes faster than before.

The gentle contact of skin on skin made Cry open his eyes. He looked down as PewDie interlocked his fingers with Cry's, saying just as the last signs of life left his eyes, "I love…You too bro." PewDie's chest rose and fell once more, and his eyes dulled and lifeless. "F-Felix," Cry's voice trembled as his lover's name left his quaking lips. But PewDie could not hear him, for he was already wrapped up in an eternal sleep. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Felix, Felix, please WAKE UP! Wake up!" But the blond didn't react, didn't show any signs of life and, most of all, was still grinning like he had before he died. "Felix…!"

` Throughout the whole castle a mournful cry echoed, inviting hostile monsters to come and join Cry's solitary mourning. But the brunette didn't care, even 'welcoming the thought of death, if only to be with his lover again. Death heard Cry's wish and answered him in the form of a Brute, taking both PewDie and Cry with him to afterlife.

He gasped, sitting up in his bed. Trembling, silent tears forming in deep-blue eyes, pale skin highlighted against the bright of the screen of a computer sitting on a desk across a room. It was late, very late, but the nightmare was still ever-present in Ryan's mind, not giving him the ability to sleep. He was used to having them, the nightmares, but never prepared for their content. They had started out small and trivial, only happening once in a while, but after realizing that he loved Felix the dreams had gotten worse and more frequent. They always involved games that he or the Swedish male had played before, and all of them ended in some sort of disaster. When he woke up from any of them, he'd find his heart racing and a deep longing to see Felix's face come over him.

This nightmare had been different, though. It had felt so real; the feeling of another man's lips on his, the salty tears, the pain the wound had caused him, everything. He couldn't have imagined it all, and he couldn't be imagining the way his heart wouldn't stop racing at its memory.

Ryan jumped at a small sound; it was the one that indicated that he had an awaiting video message from Skype. He knew he wouldn't able to fall back asleep, despite the fact that he had slept very little, so he got out of his bed and walked up to his computer. He looked down at who it was; it was Felix again. Sighing, he grabbed his famous poker face mask from off of the computer desk and put it on. Tonight his windswept bangs spilled over the top of the mask, proceeding to end halfway down the white, ceramic clay.

He clicked open the window and was met with a smiling Felix looking at him. "Hey Cry. Why are you still up, I thought it was late in the Americas?"

"I couldn't sleep," He muttered, his voice thick with a yawn. Ryan rested his head on his hand; exhaustion rolling over him waves, threatening to pull him under. But he knew that, even if he could fall asleep, he wouldn't be able to sleep long enough to take away his tiredness.

He peered at Felix through half-open eyes. Nightmare blended with reality as Felix's eyes seem to dull and his face paled until it was white as paper. Ryan tensed, his heart skipping a beat. He blinked; once, twice, three times. By the third Felix looked normal again; healthy and alive.

"Hey, dude, you alright?" Felix inquired, concerned.

His voice brought Ryan out of his daze. "Uh…Oh, yeah, I'm fine." He ran his left hand through his bangs, sighing as he did so. "It's just that I'm so tired."

Felix frowned, and unusual expression to see on the blond's face. "Are you sure? If not I don't have to come visit."

"No, no it's fine, really." Ryan said hastily, removing his hand from his hair. Felix and Ryan had made plans for the Swedish LPer to stay over Ryan's house for a few weeks so he could go to the Gamers Convention and to go the Bro Army meet up happening in Florida. Ryan had actually been looking forwards to the upcoming weeks, despite the fact he'd have to wear his mask at all times in order to avoid revealing his face, so he didn't like the thought of Felix not coming to visit just because of his nightmares.

"Alright, since you say you're fine." Felix didn't seem convinced, despite his words. "Anyways, do you mind I brought some of my recording stuff with me? We could do some more co-ops while I'm down there," Felix proposed, a questioning smile on his face.

"Nah, I don't mind." Exhaustion was starting to cloud Ryan's mind now, pulling him deeper and deeper into its embrace. "Hey Pewds, I'm going to head off to bed now. What time should I pick you up at the airport Monday?"

Felix stayed silent for a few seconds before saying, "Probably around eight in the morning."

"Alright then, 'night Pewds." Ryan stood up and was just about to exit Skype when Felix stopped him.

"Hey, make sure you're taking care of yourself, alright?" He sounded worried and, for a moment, Ryan wanted to admit having the nightmares. But he shook his head, and sighed.

"Yeah, alright," Then he clicked out of Skype.

Sluggish from exhaustion, Ryan pulled the mask off of his face and set it down gently next to his computer. He made sure his video was finished rendering before he shut down his computer and, after a few steps, collapsed onto his bed.

He didn't remember having a nightmare that night, but by the next morning the terror of it was still with him and he was sure that he had dreamed.

I'm welcoming to critiques, but please don't pick this story apart and feed it to the wolves. That's not very nice~

It was dark; the air around him musty and stale. His friend was gone, swallowed up by the shadows of the night. Both of them had lanterns and a few tinderboxes, but he was the only one with extra oil and Cry knew that his friend had left with only the little amount he had in his own lantern. He had insisted, demanded even, that Pewds should take whatever oil Cry had leftover; however, the blond had declined, telling him not to worry, that he'd be fine. He even had made the point that Cry, whom was badly injured from a run-in with one of the monsters, would need it more considering his inability to move and the lack of light and candles around the room he was currently stuck in. The masked man still argued, not wavering, never budging, but still the Swedish male only took some of the American's tinderboxes, and a sanity potion, leaving the oil and a promise of return behind with the other.

His friend was taking too long. It seemed like an eternity since he had heard the sound of a Grunt, and even longer so since the departure of his blond-haired friend. Ever since then, Cry's paranoia and worry grew, becoming a hungry monster that swallowed his mind whole, leaving only skittish and broken thoughts behind in its wake. What if he had gotten lost, or was starving somewhere in an unknown area of the castle? Maybe he had gone insane and was killing everything in his path. He could be dead, or dying somewhere. Or…He could've forgotten about me. For some reason, the idea of his closest friend forgetting about him bothered Cry the most. Not even the thought of his friend's body lying around somewhere, lifeless, was as scary of a thought to him as being forgotten. He wasn't exactly sure why, but the thought was unbearable to him and even made him want to cry. So, he tried pushing away those feelings and suspicions, trying to bury them in the back of his mind, but they never stayed still, never stayed suppressed, and they kept taunting him until he couldn't take it anymore.

He cried out his friend's name, even though he knew it was suicide to do so, but let him be damned if he didn't try despite the danger. He just wanted to hear PewDie's voice again, his accent, the way his voice always seemed to have a hint of joy in it; he wanted to hear it all again. The longing of seeing his friend's face once more, to see him safe back with him, was crushing him, effectively stifling his voice until his cries came out in short, sobbing bursts.

It was no use; his friend was either dead or not coming back, he was sure of it. So it was a surprise when footsteps could be heard coming towards him, and the voice of the man with an unmistakable accent calling his name. "P-Pewds; Pewds, over here," Cry's voice was soft but desperate; he could only hope that his words would reach his friend.

It had. His friend's footsteps grew closer to him, and his voice was much clearer as he inquired, "Cry? Cry, are you okay? Does your wound still hurt?"

The pain was still there, but the thoughts of his friend had driven it out of Cry's mind; however, when PewDie mentioned it, the pain in his back seemed to double, triple even, making it nearly possible to speak. "Y-Yeah, a little," was all Cry could manage, clenching his teeth. "But I'm alright, I guess."

"Heh, that's good. I was worried about leaving you here, but I finally found it Cry; the last bottle of Laudanumum." He reached in and took it out of his pocket, smiling. "Here, take it."

Cry reached out hesitantly. He wanted to take it, but something was wrong. Staring into PewDie's light blue eyes, he gasped; they were dull and glazed. Blood seemed to be splattered in his hair, and, when looking at his chest, his light blue "Brofist" shirt was stained crimson. "Pewds…What happened?"

PewDie looked confused for a second, but following Cry's gaze to the blood on his shirt, the confusion vanished and he chuckled quietly. "Oh, this," he tugged on his shirt, drawing Cry's attention to the stain once more and out of his already fading world. "It's nothing, really. I just…Had a run in with a Bro, that's all."

The brunette bit his lip, hating what he was going to have to do but knowing it was unavoidable. "Felix," it was the first time Cry had used PewDie's real name since they had gotten into their situation, and it sparked worry in PewDie's heart. "I want you to take it."

"Take what Cry?" He asked, but he already knew what Cry was talking about; the Laudanum, the only thing that could heal their injuries. There was only enough for one person, though, and both knew the other would die without it.

"The Laudanum…" He murmured, the strength in his left arm failing him. "Take it; I want you…to have it…F-Felix." His vision started to blur, flickering in and out of darkness. A sad smile graced his lips, "Everything will…Be okay Pewds; I'll be okay. Please, take it." He sounded desperate, maybe trying to convince himself that his words were true despite the fact that he was dying right in front of the blond.

"No, you need it more than I do, Cry. Trust me, I'll be fine." PewDiePie opened the small glass bottle and held it up to his friend's lips, bright blue eyes shimmering in the darkness, as if they were holding unshed tears. "So please, live, for me." With those words came a sorrow born in the Swedish male's heart as he forced his comrade's mouth open, pouring the crimson liquid down his friend's throat.

Cry sputtered, but was forced to swallow the bitter liquid. The crimson drained from the bottle quickly, and only when a few drops clung desperately to the glass container did Felix move it away from Cry's lips.

Cry felt better almost instantly, the pain seemingly disappearing with every second that passed. But as the pain disappeared, so did PewDie's strength, and when the healing process was done, the blond had already collapsed onto the cold stone floor. "Pewds," the name was just a whisper upon the brunette's sculpted lips, barely leaving the opening of his mouth as if they were afraid. "Why…Why did you…?"

"Shh, don't worry about it, Cry." Their famous joke, now used seriously, trembled as it hung in the thick air. "I'll be alright." His voice was soft and calming, but it wasn't enough to console the trembling brunette.

"No, please, stop lying to me." His voice was desperate and full of crushing sorrow. Dense tears ran along the natural curve of his face until they landed on PewDie's pale cheeks. "You're not fine and I don't…" He took a shaky breath, sobs threatening to escape him. "…I don't know how to save you. I don't know what to do…Please, tell me what to do."

"Kiss me." Cry had been refusing to look at his pale friend, whether it was because looking at PewDie in such a state would make the realization that his friend was going to die final, or the fact that he was angry at the Swedish blond for lying to him, was uncertain. But, at the sound of PewDie's voice and the request it had delivered, Cry looked down at his friend in surprise. His cheeks flushed a rosy color, and his eyes widened under the white poker face mask. PewDie whispered the words again, this time with less volume than before. "Kiss me, Ryan."

Cry bit his lip nervously, slowly reaching towards his mask. PewDiePie scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, looking up at him with a questioning gaze. Cry cracked a small smile, saying, "I can't kiss you with my mask on." But his movements were hesitant, uncertain, and they were quickly running out of time. Noticing the light leaving PewDie's blue eyes, Cry yanked off the mask, tearing the plastic strap that had held it on his face for so long, and threw it across the room before hastily locking his lips with the others in a desperate attempt at survival.

At first the kiss was forceful and rushed, but as seconds went by it became tenderer and more gentle, tasting of salty tears. But all too soon did their lips part, and only then did Cry realized that he was in love with the man dying before him. It was such a cruel fate, to be in love with someone dying, and it tore at Cry's heart, ripping it into pieces. Sobs racked his body, sorrow finally escaping the prison of his mind. PewDie looked at him concerned, asking, "Cry?"

"Pewds…Why is it that I didn't know that I loved you…Until you were…" He couldn't finish his sentence, his voice failing him at the last second. He balled his hands into fists and he squeezed his eyes shut, tears leaking out of his eyes faster than before.

The gentle contact of skin on skin made Cry open his eyes. He looked down as PewDie interlocked his fingers with Cry's, saying just as the last signs of life left his eyes, "I love…You too bro." PewDie's chest rose and fell once more, and his eyes dulled and lifeless. "F-Felix," Cry's voice trembled as his lover's name left his quaking lips. But PewDie could not hear him, for he was already wrapped up in an eternal sleep. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Felix, Felix, please WAKE UP! Wake up!" But the blond didn't react, didn't show any signs of life and, most of all, was still grinning like he had before he died. "Felix…!"

` Throughout the whole castle a mournful cry echoed, inviting hostile monsters to come and join Cry's solitary mourning. But the brunette didn't care, even welcoming the thought of death, if only to be with his lover again. Death heard Cry's wish and answered him in the form of a Brute, taking both PewDie and Cry with him to afterlife.