It was a blur of moments. One minute, Billy and Stu are watching horror flicks, then the next, Sidney comes in, and stabs Stu. Billy walked in, having returned from his run to the liquor store. "Stu, I'm back!" He called. "I got the good shit!"

No answer. "Stu?" Billy asked, going upstairs. "Stu, what are you-- Oh my god!" He shouted, finding Stu bleeding out, barely conscious. "Baby, what happened?" He asked, ripping his shirt off, trying to stop the more severe wounds.

"S-Sid-Sidney." Stu choked out. "C-came in here, r-ragin' as us-usual. H-had a kn-knife, and lunged at m-me. Started st-stabbin' me, and left."

"That bitch." Billy stated. "That fuckin' whore."

"B-Billy, just... st-stay with m-me... pl-please...?" Stu choked out, blood drizzling from his mouth.

"Yeah, always, baby." Billy assured. "I'll call 911."

"N-no use... she cut the ph-phone cords." Stu gasped.

"Damnit. Well, I can't move you because of a possible spinal injury." Billy pointed out, "And our phones have no minutes on 'em."

" 's okay, Billy... It'll be okay." Stu assured, weakly.

"No, it won't be." Billy responded, choking back tears. "God, I should've never left."

"No, no... no blamin' yourself." Stu grinned, weakly. "It's not.. y-your fault, y-you couldn't ha-have prev-prevented this."

As the seconds dragged on, Stu lost more and more blood, and grew weaker. Billy did try to call 911, only to have them not answer the phone. It made Billy pissed off, and worried. Pissed off cause he couldn't do shit, Stu needed medical help ASA-fucking P. Worried, cause he couldn't risk aggravating Stu's already deep wounds.

"So much for 24/7 availability." Billy scoffed. "The hell is wrong with these people?"

"I dunno... W-what if an ol-old person fell.. or was takin' a big ol' shit... and fell?" Stu joked, wincing in pain. Even in the most dire of situations, he always had to crack a joke.

"You and your damn weird sense of humor." Billy mused, softly.

As the minutes dragged on and on, Stu knew he was gonna die, Billy knew Stu was gonna die. And there wasn't shit he could do about it. Not a damn thing. He was gonna lose the love of his life, the light in his dark world, and for what reason? Whatever Sidney did it for, he guessed.

"H-hey, Bils...?" Stu murmured.

"Hmm? Yeah, baby?" Billy asked.

"I... love you..." Stu muttered.

Billy had to contain himself to not just sob right then and there. Instead, he inhaled quietly, tears at bay. "I love you too, asshole. So, so much." He stated.

Within a few moments, Stu's heart stopped. His pulse gone, heart no longer beating. He died in Billy's arms. Billy cradled his body close, and fucking sobbed. He didn't care who saw him, he just didn't give. A. Fuck. His boyfriend was dead, he died in his arms. He watched Stu die, helpless to do anything. He did nothing. He weeped, and weeped, not caring that his throat was raw, not caring that Stu's body started to go cold. And when the cops showed up the next morning, they found a weeping boy, cradling his dead lover, absolutely broken. Had it not been for Stu's phone on record mode, Billy would've been arrested.

Soon after, Sidney was arrested, and charged with murder. And her reasoning? Because Stu didn't reciprocate Tatum's romantic interest in him. Over the next few days, Billy remained at Stu's grave. On the tombstone, it read: 'Here lies Stuart Macher, beloved by all. 1978-1996. May his soul rest amongst the angels in Heaven'.

Billy couldn't help it, he just bawled. He stayed at Stu's grave from dawn until dusk, and sometimes, the whole night. After a week, he couldn't take it anymore. When he knew his dad was out, he wrote a note, and got a knife. Now, Billy had a history with self-harm, but this, this was worse. He couldn't live without Stu, he just couldn't. Stu was his everything, his whole world. They had known each other since Pre-K, they knew everything about each other.

Billy went to his room, and locked the door. Tears cascaded down his face, as he sat on his bed. He pressed the blade against his skin, and dragged it down. Blood seeped through, followed by a stinging sensation. Billy, however, was used to this, and felt nothing, nothing at all. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Stu." He cried, repeating it like a mantra. When he felt that he cut his arms enough, he began to stab himself. H plunged the blade in and out of his body, making himself suffer, to feel what Stu felt when he died. After making seven stab wounds, to match Stu's, he took the final step.

He pressed the blade to his wrist, and sliced. Blood began to gush out, and he went to the opposite wrist, working efficiently. He dropped the knife, his vision blurred. Blood was everywhere; on the floor, the wall, the bed, everywhere. Billy laid back, and closed his eyes for the final time, tears slipping down his bloodied face. Seconds later, his heart stopped. He was gone, gone from the mortal realm to the afterlife.

And that's how he was found an hour later, by his remaining friends. He was laid to rest beside Stu, lovers in life, lovers in death.