Okay, so this was written on a whim merely to satisfy my need to be a horrible person. I apologize for it in advance.

"To A Better Place"

"Just…a bit…more…" Misaki almost collapsed under the weight of the half-conscious body slumped against him, dark hair matted against a sweaty forehead. Every muscle in his body screamed at him to give up and lie down; to surrender to a sweet sleep, consequences be damned. But he fought against it, taking one small step at a time, both swaying unsteadily.

The war was over

They had lost.

Fushimi's uniform was dark, so it was hard to see how much blood had leaked out from the gunshot wound in his side. His breathing was labored and every once in a while, Misaki had to rely on the small guttural sounds of pain to reassure himself – he was alive. But the pale face and excessive sweat and whimpering was enough to make Misaki keep moving forward, towards the direction of the medical check post.

If only… if only I can reach there in time. Then we can get Saruhiko help. Then we can get me-

Gritting his teeth, he took one final step before his legs gave way beneath him and both of them collapsed on the broken asphalt, cries of pain escaping their lips.

They should have seen it coming.

It had taken everything in Misaki not to fall apart when he saw Mikoto – the great army General, Suoh Mikoto fall in battle. But then everything had happened too fast. One of their planes had been shot out of the sky and it crashed straight into their base.

Burning. So many bodies.

It had taken the opposition seconds to wipe out the whole of the red division. The few who managed to survive were quickly sliced down by soldiers proudly bearing their green coat of arms. Misaki closed his eyes tightly, hoping it would block out the dying screams of his friends. The crash had left them disorientated – there hadn't been enough time for them to regroup, gather their wits and fight back.

And then –

"Saruhiko Fushimi." Misaki whirled around, eyes widening in horror as he saw the dark-haired man being corned by an enemy General. "What a pleasant surprise." Misaki shot down the man he was up against and made a dash towards his best friend.

Four yards.

Fushimi was out of bullets. Misaki knew because he kept telling that asshole again and again to get some extra shells but he never listened. He. Never, listened. And now –

Three yards.

Smirking, the man raised his gun to point blank, right between Fushimi's pretty blue eyes. They were always so sharp and glimmering but every from this distance, Misaki could see them getting dull as hopelessness washed over him.

Oh no you don't, you asshole! You don't get to die on me. Not you. Not ever!

Two yards.

Misaki was vaguely aware that people were shouting in the background. Something about the Blues being spotted just beyond the horizon. They were here. It was going to be fine.

One yard.

Putting every bit of remaining energy that he possessed into his sprint, Misaki tackled the gun man just as he pulled the trigger on Fushimi. The resonating sound was deafening in Misaki's ears and he quickly shot the man - snuffing out his pitiful existence before rounding on the see-

"SARUHIKO!" Dropping his gun in pure anguish, he slid next to the bleeding figure, carefully pulling away his hand to inspect the wound in his side. The bullet had missed vitals but the blood pouring out of the tear in flesh made Misaki recoil. Shit. It was bad.

Lifting Fushimi to his feet, he quickly glanced around to see everyone was distracted. Nodding to himself, he began to work his way towards safety, using cover of the shadows and smoke. Bodies littered the ground as he dragged Fushimi through burning buildings and plane the wreckage. The Blues had arrived and had immediately begun to assist the remainder of the Red Quadrant. The head, Munakata Reisi, seemed to be effortlessly giving out orders, getting everyone in an abler position to fight back.

"Misaki…." Brown eyes focused on Fushimi before he smiled tightly.

"Com'on grumpy pants. Let's get you to the medic check post."

"-saki. Misaki!" The auburn-haired man snapped out of his reverie to find Fushimi pointing to abandoned looking building. "Let's go there." Pushing himself to his feet, even as every fiber in his being denied the motion, he helped Fushimi hobble over to the abandoned broken-down bar. The small steps were proving even more of a challenge that his usual morning laps and with a struggle that seemed almost unreal, they finally crossed the threshold and fell onto a ratty couch that was just lying there collecting dust.

Small particles flew in the air, making them cough but settled down soon.

Misaki glanced around inquisitively, taking in the wooden floorings and bar.

"This must have been one hell of a bar in its time right Saru?" turning to look at his friend, he paled. Fushimi's face was deathly pale, sweat sticking his bangs to his face. His face was contorted in pain, hand clutching his wound tightly.

"Saru-"

"Misaki are you an idiot?"

"HAH?"

Blue eyes narrowed at him as the other struggled to sit up.

"We're being followed." He hissed. Misaki froze.

Oh.

Oh.

Followed.

He had almost led the enemy to their hidden location where their injured were recuperating.

"How did you –"

"I noticed the shadow when we fell." Misaki's heart began to beat faster, hazel eyes going wide as realization came crashing down on him. Gulping, he let out a humorless laugh, eyes stinging, blinking rapidly to make them stop itching.

"We're…we're not getting out of here alive, are we?" The other man stared at the ground in silence. Laughter bubbled in the back of Misaki's throat as he found it hard to keep in it. Pretty soon, tears were streaming down his face and Misaki himself was not sure at what point he had started crying.

"Sorry Saruhiko – I'm sorry. We're going to get caught like this – I'm sorry." He hiccupped out, rubbing his eyes, not knowing how to face the man he had loved since he was twelve. Fushimi stared at him.

"It's not Misaki's fault. You should have just left me behind." Misaki laughed, suddenly feeling very lightheaded. He knew, that just outside the doors, was their probable death. If they had truly been followed by the Green Army, the they were both going to die here. Fushimi must have been thinking the same thing because he smirked.

"You know, I still have one bullet left."

Misaki stared at him.

"What?" Fushimi held up his gun.

"I have one bullet." Fushimi repeated calmly, holding up his gun, eye beginning to shine like they usually did when he was on the edge of a brilliant idea. "Think Misaki, they probably would take us in alive and torture us till death would be nothing a sweet release. So why not take a short cut."

"You mean-" Misaki couldn't believe what he was hearing. Face turning red, he glared at the younger man. "Are you crazy!? I am not – that's cowardice!" Fushimi who had been smiling up till now suddenly gave him a cold look. Misaki felt a chill go down his spine.

"Oh? Then what do you suppose we do? Put up a fight? In our current state of health? Excuse me while I be the voice of reason. If they get either of us alive, they'll torture information out of us and then you'd be labelled as far worse than just a coward." Misaki started. "You'd be a traitor." Misaki stared blankly at the gun and then his face then back at the gun.

"But how are we going to kill each other with just-" The rest of his words were cut of as a hot pair of lips met his. Fushimi pressed up close, using the last bit of his strength to kiss Misaki as if it were his last day on Earth.

It is…

The thought made Misaki reciprocate with equal desperation, tongues clashing and hands immediately fisting into the dark locks. Pulling back slightly, he panted staring into the other's eyes.

"So how…"

"I'm sorry Misaki, please forgive me."

The gunshot rang out and everything faded to black.

"I didn't think you had it in you to kill the man you love." Fushimi looked up to see the Green's lieutenant, Mishakuji Yukari casually leaning against the doorway, arms folded. Fushimi gave him a smug look, eyeing the two-tone haired male with distaste. Coughing up some blood, he flashed a toothy grin.

"I'm not going to survive the shot. I knew that the moment it hit me. But Misaki – Misaki would live and I would rather he die than hand him over to the likes of you." Yukari let out an amused chuckle, walking towards him, head tilted. Fushimi was struck by how much he resembled a cat; one that would be eyeing its prey oddly before jumping at it and tearing it into two.

"And pray do tell," he said out loud, almost as if he were singing, taunting Fushimi with just the tone of his voice "what would you do if you survived this place? You would have lost whatever game you've been playing." Fushimi shook his head, already the world slipping in and out of focus. His head was throbbing but he had lost feelings in his lower limbs. Giving Yukari one more smirk, he barely managed to whisper out.

"We didn't lose."

We never lose.

Please don't hurt me.