An uneasiness lingers in his breath, but so subtle, like the variations in a flower petal. There are things I should have told him.  There are a lot of things I should have told him. He lays there in that bed, his chest rising and falling and I can hear him breathing. I feel like I can hear his heart beating. I remember how blue his eyes are.

 

Maybe this is heaven. I got what I wanted, in that he's there in that hospital bed and he's breathing and he'll open those eyes. I'll get to be near him, always. I couldn't really have asked for more than that.

 

With the war behind us, we should have been able to find our way. Should have.

 

God, he's got a beautiful voice. He doesn't know it, I don't think. We were getting an apartment together, that day. It was a few days ago. Just roommates, for now.

 

It was his car, a much too nice car for unemployed space junk like him and me.  Just to hear him breathing, a little every day, that would have been enough. It's odd how the flower petal doesn't move as I run my finger over it, but his breathing is so much louder.  Love is a powerful feeling. It's so much clearer now, with my heart doing the best thing it's ever done.

 

The doctor is loud as a stack of falling debris as he enters. "Mr. Perry?"

 

The sneaky bastard opened his eyes. His breathing hadn't changed even the slightest. "Justice," he rasped out, voice rough from disuse.

 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Perry," the doctor said, eyes not leaving his tablet. "Your friend didn't survive the accident, but he did leave you a gift. You have his heart."

 

Now his breathing changed. Those blue eyes went wide as Cain's entire body vibrated.

"I'm here," Justice promised. "I'm here, Cain. I'll never leave you."