AN: I’ll be honest, I had trouble with this chapter. I knew where I wanted to go and what I wanted to happen, but getting there took so many tries it was almost pitiful. But at long last it’s here.

This chapter takes a slightly different format to the others? I think it does anyway.

Paper planes lined the walls of the white hospital room. Though they failed to give colour to the mediocre room, the lines and scribbles of words told a story along the giant canvas. Luhan’s mother looked over the pieces without reading a word, her expression unreadable, hand lightly brushing the odd paper every so often as she weaved between the life support machines that Luhan could no longer live without.
Luhan watched her quietly. Taeyeon said it was fine to decorate the walls as long as it would be something easy to remove, and Sehun had helped string the paper to the ceilings and blue-tack them to the walls. Now Luhan was surrounded by planes. His empty sky had been filled. He had wished that he could paint the walls blue – like the cloudless skies that he had stood under the best few months with Sehun. Even in the coldest months, Luhan could not remember a time when he felt the harsh winds of winter. But Taeyeon wouldn’t allow it. The walls had to stay white.
“It’s…different.” The old woman spoke as she once more soothed out the wrinkles in her clothes. She stood and stared at one of the planes, back turned to the young man so that he could not see her expression. The words, though scribbled and messy, were  as clear as day. Though to her, ‘I can’t. I don’t know how’ meant nothing more than being unable to do something.
Luhan forgot himself for a moment, trying to get out of the bed though for the past week he had been forbidden from doing do. Taeyeon shook her head – her expression bleak. Luhan knew, he couldn’t do the things he had been able to do only a month ago – his body could no longer support itself. He was just an empty shell waiting for the end.
“Doctor. Kim, are you sure this is okay? Won’t you have to take all these down when…” Her eyes widened at the realisation of what was about to slip from , but Luhan had no reaction when she looked at him in shock. He knew. He was ready.
“It’s okay, Sehun offered to help when the time came.” Taeyeon nodded, moving around the bed and lightly hitting one of the planes that hung from the ceiling. It had been a hard job, but one that she didn’t mind helping Sehun with. Luhan had been devastated when he was told he could no longer leave the hospital as often as he did, and she never did like seeing her patience sad. “He’ll take them with him I assume; a reminder of their friendship.”
“I wouldn’t trust them with anyone else.” The man muttered, his head low. “They wouldn’t understand them anyway. They’d just look like one way conversations to anyone else.”

Without warning the door opened, and the people inside looked over just in time to see a tall boy with bleached blonde hair enter. He stood still when he noticed the unknown woman standing with his friend, but Sehun didn’t speak. He couldn’t, and instead bowed his head in greeting before handing a plastic bag full of sugary snacks towards the bedridden man.
“Sehun I told you to stop buying him those things.” Taeyeon whined as she hit his arm, but didn’t take the bag away from Luhan.
Sehun simply shrugged, and Luhan smiled brightly – momentarily forgetting that his mother was in the room as he pulled out a bar of chocolate and began eating it like a child would. The woman cleared and wrapped a piece of natural black hair around her finger, suddenly feeling out of place. She stuck her hand out towards the new member of the room and spoke as though expecting a response. “I’m Luhan’s mother, you are?”
The boy took her hand, but he didn’t talk. Luhan instantly dropped the chocolate and spoke though his mouth was full. “Sehun. That’s Sehun.”
Though she didn’t say anything, the woman continued to look at Sehun as though she didn’t believe he couldn’t talk. As the moment became awkward, she quickly dropped her hand without another word and turned her back, no longer looking at the three. “Well, I don’t have long left until my business meeting, so I must be on my way. I’ll visit again tomorrow Luhan. Lovely meeting you Sehun.”

And with that, the woman left the room without waiting for a reply.

They couldn’t go out much anymore, and if they did it was only for a few hours, once a week. But the few hours soon decreased to a few minutes, and once a week became once every fortnight. Sehun knew that soon things would end, and only the thought that Luhan would soon be without pain kept him smiling.
Sehun didn’t really know if he could class his feelings towards Luhan as mere friendship. Maybe it was more – maybe they were brothers, or something more intimate, but it didn’t matter much to him, and as he sat at the bottom of the hospital bed, watching seconds pass, he decided not to give it anymore thought.
“Don’t you think the stars are pretty?” Luhan suddenly gushed. His eyes sparkled like the balls of gas he was looking at, and his smile brighten the room more than the moon’s light could. With Winter came short days and long nights, and though it was only afternoon, Sehun found himself looking up at the starry night from his place on the bed. “Wouldn’t it be really cool if each star was a dream, or a wish?”
Sehun sat and listened, pondering over the words but missing their meaning. The stars were stars, there was nothing more to them.
“What if your dream is still up there, like a light that hasn’t gone out yet.” The man suddenly sighed, his back towards Sehun. “You wanted to rap, right? I don’t think you should give up.”
Sehun wanted to argue; how could he if he didn’t have a voice? But no words came. No words ever came.
Then suddenly Luhan turned around, as though he’d suddenly realised something. “I know, you know, that you can’t rap. But you’re more than just a voice, Sehun. Just because you can’t speak doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to get your voice out. Your friends didn’t give up, did they? They carried on even though you couldn’t. Your dream is still living with them, even though you’ve given up.”
He falls silence for a moment before shaking his head.
“I’m making no sense. What I’m trying to say is – just because something is difficult at first, doesn’t mean it’s impossible. You want your voice to be heard, so do it in a way that only you can. All your opinions, thoughts, let them be known. They’re what make you special, Sehun, and you don’t need a voice for that. You’re more than just a sound.”

And that moment settled it, because out of all the people Sehun had known, no one had believed in him as much as Luhan had. No matter what they were, the mute knew one thing – no one could replace Luhan.

Sehun was allowed to stay in the room when Luhan was having his daily injections. At first Luhan had been hesitant, but the closer he became to Sehun, the more he knew it wouldn’t matter. So as he sat next to Taeyeon, his arm in her hand as she passed needles between herself and a red haired woman a similar age that Sehun vaguely recgonised, he was only slightly on edge, though that could have been due to the fact the doctor was probing sharp objects into his arm.
No matter how many times Luhan was injected, he would never get used to the sharp prick. It was childish, something a man his age shouldn’t have been bothered by. But it worried him all the same, and as he glanced towards Sehun – who sat crossed legged, feverishly back and forth between the needle and Luhan’s face – he couldn’t help but smile at the awkwardness that Sehun rested in. He clearly didn’t know what to do with himself. Sehun wasn’t used to the constant buzz of a hospital despite spending the past few months in one.
“It doesn’t hurt much.” Luhan had confessed once Taeyeon and the other nurse had left the room. Sehun looked up quickly. “It’s just knowing that they’re putting something inside your body. It’s kind of scary.”
The boy nodded, his mouth slightly open as he thought about it. Sehun had only been injected with painkillers a few times, and had his bloods taken about twice. But for Luhan it was a daily thing. They constantly had to check his body and condition. Sehun couldn’t help but frown.
“Hey don’t worry about it too much. I’m used to it.”

But that was exactly why Sehun was worried.

Luhan didn’t listen to much music, Sehun knew about that much. Outside of the odd song Luhan somehow caught wind of once or twice, he didn’t know much about popular artists. So on one of the days when Luhan wasn’t allowed out of the hospital, Sehun had brought his ipod along – filled with as many different songs as Sehun could think of.
The man listened to them quietly, a peaceful expression on his face. Every so often he’d make Sehun repeat a song – not knowing how to do it himself – and then hum along to the little bits that he knew. It made Sehun smile, even if Luhan did get bits wrong here and there.
But it didn’t last for long. The peaceful expression on Luhan’s face quickly twisted to one of pain, and before he knew what was happening, Sehun was being pushed out of the hospital room as a bunch of nurses and doctors went inside.

The last he saw was an apologetic Taeyeon, who closed the door behind her and left the boy to stand outside in silence. It was then Sehun realised that time had almost run out.

Sehun had almost ran out of things for Luhan to do. The man was weak – Sehun didn’t think he had more than a month left. February had rolled in quickly, and Sehun had thought of almost everything to occupy the short amount of time they had left.
So he was glad when Luhan decided that he didn’t feel like doing much expect talk that Sunday.
“I’m too tired.” He sighed and covered his mouth as he left out a yawn. “I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about things, you know?”
Luhan was great at keeping the conversations going, even if Sehun couldn’t answer. He’d come to read the expressions on his face – and all it took was a simple glance to tell if Sehun was keeping up or not.
“I kept thinking ‘wow, I really haven’t done much with life. Look at all these people moving on and living, and here I am, unable to get out of bed’. Life is really cruel, you know Sehun?”
Sehun nodded, wishing he could open his mouth and rant about all the ways life had been cruel. But not even the paper seemed like it wanted to hear his thoughts this time, so he settled with the nod – as did Luhan.
“When I was younger, I could do so much.” Luhan watched the ceiling from where he sat. “I wanted to be a dancer. I was really good at it too. But I couldn’t do it for long – my body wasn’t strong enough. Then soon enough I had to quit for good.”
Dancing. Sehun couldn’t imagine Luhan dancing. He’d always known the weak man in front of him – he couldn’t imagine him moving his body the way dancers did.
“Life took our dreams away from us. From you, life took your voice, and from me, it took my body. The things we needed to achieve what we wanted – life took. Man, we must have been real bad people in our past lives to have deserved this.”
Sehun couldn’t help laugh even though it wasn’t funny. Luhan’s tone made it seem like a joke – like he was looking at his life as though it was a joke. Maybe he’d learned to treat it like it was; maybe he’d learned to look past the sadness by laughing at just how pathetic his life was.
“I wish I could turn back pages and start again; but what would I change? How can I change something that I don’t even understand?”

For a week, Sehun wasn’t allowed to see Luhan. The doctors said he was too weak and needed to rest, and Sehun was turned down every time. Sometimes he’d bump into Taeyeon, who would smile sorrowfully towards him and look away.
Sehun was allowed in one day while Luhan’s mother was there. Luhan barely stirred in his sleep as the woman talked – her eyes red and puffy. She’d been crying, but she’d stopped before the boy entered and didn’t start again during the time he was there.
“It’s hard.” She choked out after a long time of silence.
Sehun breathed in loudly through his nose and nodded. If Sehun hadn’t known how much Luhan hated pity, he would have somehow apologised to the man for him having to be in such a state. The man was hooked up to more life supports than he had ever been, and a drip was next to him. Sehun didn’t know what was inside it – but he did know the doctors had stopped giving Luhan medicines.
“They’re not doing anything to help him anymore.” Taeyeon had explained with a sullen expression when Luhan had fallen asleep on them.
Sehun wanted to close his eyes and forget the image of the man in front of him – but he knew he had to come to terms with it. His best friend – his only friend – was dying. There was nothing for him to do now. Nothing but be there until the end.
“I wasn’t able to be here with him during his last few months. Or his last few years.” She paused. “I’ve never been able to be here with him – I’ve always been busy. Working to pay for his hospital bills was hard, but I worked relentlessly to keep him alive for as long as possible.
“For a long time I wondered if that was the right thing to do. I was prolonging the inevitable and forcing my baby to live in a world of loneliness and pain. But then one day, out of the blue, Luhan told me about you – Sehun. He spoke with such a bright smile. I was glad then that I’d worked so hard to give him those extra days. I’m glad he met you. You made his life worthwhile.”
Sehun bit his lip and shook his head. He wanted to shout ‘no, I wasn’t able to help Luhan’. But Sehun couldn’t even whisper. He could only listen.

“You’re more than a voice, Sehun.”

If only that was true.

Sehun found that going to the hospital that week was more painful than it had ever been. But he went every day without fail. For a while Luhan looked like he was getting better. He stayed awake for longer than he had been and sometimes he could even get out of bed and read the letters on the wall. His body had been fighting back, and Sehun finally understood the saying; things have to get worse before they can get better.
But then Sehun found Luhan back in the bed, painful groans sometimes escaping his mouth as Taeyeon stood close by and shook her head, blinking continuously like there was something hurting. She looked up at the sight of Sehun and forced a smile.
“We were waiting for you. His mother has already stopped by, but Luhan wanted to wait until you came to fall asleep.”
Sehun nodded but didn’t understand. Luhan should have slept, he needed his rest if he wanted to get better. Luhan had rarely waited for him to turn up to sleep, he was rarely able to fight it for that long.
But today he had pushed himself, and Sehun couldn’t think why.
“Sehunnie, you came.”
Sehun couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his face. Luhan had only used that nickname a few times before, and it had only been to annoy him. But this time it felt different.
Taeyeon nodded as she walked towards the door, muttering something about giving the two some room. She gave one glance back before leaving and shutting the door – and Sehun didn’t understand.
“I was waiting. I knew you’d come. They told me to just sleep, but I knew you’d come. You always do.”
Sehun smiled and nodded, approaching Luhan and standing beside him. There was sweat on his body, and the man looked like he was in a lot of pain. Would he even be able to sleep in such a condition?
“Thank you Sehun, for coming all the time. I’m so glad. But, you can’t come anymore.”
The words caught Sehun off guard, and he opened his mouth in shock, trying to force a question. When nothing came, he ripped the bag from his back and reached for the paper, only to stop.
“No Sehun, no paper today. I don’t feel like reading, sorry. But, you can’t come tomorrow, or the day after. Or the day after that. From now on you have to make something of your life without me. But it’s okay, I’ll remember the days that you came to visit me. I could never forget those days even if I wanted to. They were the only times I had fun.”
Sehun couldn’t tell Luhan that he would come back. Sehun would come back every day, even if Luhan told him not to. He had promised Taeyeon he would make Luhan’s last days memorable, so he would come back. He had to.
“I’m getting tired now, Sehun. I’ll make this quick, okay?” He smiled, though it wasn’t much of a smile. “You were my best friend – the only one who stuck with me when things were bad. You didn’t need to be here, but you were. I – Sehun I love you man. More than I love my parents for working so hard – more than I love the stars in the night sky and the planes on the wall.”
The boy couldn’t shift through his thoughts to figure out how he would have replied to Luhan if he had a voice. He just listened. He could only listen – not because he had no voice, but because he had no words.
“You’re confused, right? That’s okay.” He chuckled lightly, closing his eyes. “Man, I’m tired. I’ve been awake for a long time. I can sleep now, right?”
Sehun nodded, but he wasn’t sure Luhan saw.
“I hope you said yes. I’m going to sleep now. Night Sehunnie.”

Sehun stood next to Luhan for a long time, watching his painful expression slowly become peaceful as he feel asleep. But the more he looked, the more he became disturbed. Luhan didn’t more – there were no breaths that jittered out of control every so often or moans of pain. There was nothing. And as Taeyeon entered the room quietly, Sehun realised that he had watched his friend fall asleep for the last time.

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Wow. Guys. If you read this, thank you. Every single one of you – whether you found this on Wattpad or AFF, thank you. This is actually the first fic I ever finished, and it took a while. But I’m glad I had every one of you with me on this journey. Some of you have only just joined me and that’s okay – because  you’re here, you’re reading, so thank you.

This is the end chapter, but it isn’t the end of the story. There’s a little bit left that I still need to update and I’ll hopefully have it uploaded by July? Hopefully. I’ll work hard.

Thank you all.

Find the extra long Authors Note here