The DSLR camera dropped to the ground with a loud crash, startling everyone around them. Yixing froze; the hands that had been clutching the camera still hovering in mid-air as the rest of the staff in the photography studio turned to stare at him.

“Are you okay?” his assistant asked, immediately squatting down to pick up the broken pieces of the camera Yixing deemed his favourite a long time ago.

For some strange reason, the photographer’s vision blurred, and it was then Yixing realised there were tears in his eyes. He blinked rapidly, more than a little confused by his sudden change of emotions, and nodded.

“Must be too tired from last night,” he murmured and quickly apologised to the rest of the people. “Give me a sec – I’ll go grab the other camera.”

He trudged into the backroom where there was a dozen of substitute DSLR cameras proudly lined up in a glass cabinet and was just about to pick one out when he heard the familiar tune of his mobile phone coming from inside his backpack. Known to not like being disturbed when he was working, his lips curled into a scowl and he reluctantly dug his phone out just to have the ringtone cut off.

18 missed calls.

Yixing didn’t recognise the number. If this was some prank call, he was going to be pissed. Impatiently, he jabbed the Call Back button, his arms folded as he waited for the person on the other line to pick up.

“Hello?” he said curtly. “I’m returning a missed call – several, in fact. Who is this?”

“Is this Mr Zhang Yixing? I’m calling from the hospital. It’s your friend, Kris Wu. He’s gotten into a motorbike accident…”

-

He woke up with a crick in his neck. Yixing didn’t move at first, just sat there on the chair next to the bed and waited. Waited for any signs that would tell him his unconscious boyfriend was awake. His eyes found the fingers resting inches away from his face, and Yixing held his breath, hoping, praying that today would be the day they would move.

It wasn’t.

He swallowed the lump forming in his throat and slowly straightened, ignoring the dull ache at the back of his neck that did little to distract him from the pain in his chest. Yixing’s gaze flitted around the hospital ward, falling on every single thing except the figure on the bed. Doing so earned him some time, but the mere seconds were not enough for him to face the truth.

Kris Wu was still in a coma.

Yixing felt his lower lip tremble again and bit hard on it, forcing the corners of his lips to go up when he didn’t have anything to smile about. His shaky legs wobbled when he tried to stand up but somehow Yixing managed to do so without falling over.

“Happy 3rd anniversary, baby,” he murmured hoarsely, leaning forward to brush a kiss on Kris’ forehead. “Sorry I didn’t prepare any surprises… I swear I didn’t forget this time.” Yixing poked his cheek slightly, the cool flesh sinking underneath his index finger but still there was no reaction. “This is the part where you wake up and demand for an event.” He cast a hopeful glance at Kris. But nope. No reaction.

Yixing sighed in resignation and picked up his backpack emotionlessly. “Did you forget we were supposed to get the key to our new apartment today? You’re making me do it myself?” he asked. “The nerve. Just you wait. I’ll punish you for it—”

“Mr Zhang?”

He paused in mid-sentence and looked up, wariness etched on his face at the sight of the team of 4 doctors.

“What is it?”

Yixing was unwilling to look at the clipboard the head doctor handed him, fearing that he knew exactly what they were after. But he could only delay it for so long and the matching stern glares from 4 pairs of eyes were a little intimidating. his suddenly dry lips, he finally glanced down, his heart lurching to the pits of his stomach as his eyes caught a few keywords here and there.

“You want me to agree to pull Kris off life support so you can harvest his organs?” Yixing blurted out in shock.

 Dr Lee pressed his lips together in a firm line. “It’s not harvesting, Mr Zhang, it’s donating them to the needy ones.”

 “But what if he wakes up!?” he shouted angrily, throwing the clipboard onto the floor loudly. The audacity of these doctors – asking him for permission to kill his boyfriend? Were they out of their minds? “There are people who wake up 19 years into their comas and you want to just end his life? Are you doctors or murderers?”

“He’s not in a mere coma, Mr Zhang. He’s brain dead!” one of the doctors argued. “That’s as good as dead!”

The words squeezed his heart in a painfully tight grip and he faltered. As good as dead. Something warm and moist ran down his cheek but before he could register the tears, Yixing snapped into action and shoved all four of them rudely out the ward.

“He’s not dead!” Yixing growled furiously, not caring that he was drawing a lot of attention from the nearby nurses and patients. “How dare you say that in front of him! Do your parents not teach you any manners?” He rubbed his damp cheeks with the back of his fists, eyes staring accusingly at the doctors. “I’m not signing any damned papers, you murderers. If you dare touch him, I’ll sue the of you.”

-

“What the hell, Xing? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you?”

Yixing rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly and pasted what he hoped was an apologetic expression on his face but he was tired, so tired of arguing again. He just wanted to go to bed. “Sorry Kris, I didn’t think work would end so late,” he said, his gaze sweeping over the cold food that had been on the table for hours.

The tall blond fixed him an icy stare. “You promised you would make it back early today so I slaved in the kitchen for you. All for what? Exactly how many late hours do you have to put in for them? I haven’t seen you for more than an hour each day and we live together!”

He couldn’t help but groan. The same old complaints. The same old nagging. It wasn’t like he purposely wanted to stay out. His job just happened to demand a lot of time from him. Why couldn’t Kris understand?

“Look, this is just about the food right? I’ll eat, okay?” he retorted, sitting down at the kitchen table and grabbed the pair of chopsticks on it. But just as Yixing was about to pick up a piece of meat, Kris snatched the plate away and threw away the entire dish – even the plate. He continued to dump plate after plate of food into the bin before he glared at Yixing again.

“Why bother eating when you’ve already eaten outside?” Kris snarled, grabbing his keys from the hook on the wall and stormed out, slamming the door loudly behind him.

There was a short pause before Yixing flung the chopsticks he was holding across the kitchen. He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling irritably. “Drama queen.”

He didn’t know this would be the last time he talked to him.

-

Yixing could not sleep a wink last night. Images of the papers to pull Kris off life support floated around his mind each time he closed his eyes and the heartless words of the doctor echoed in his head repeatedly. Dead. As good as dead.

A long sigh left his lips as Yixing trudged down the familiar hospital hallway towards Kris’ ward. His eyes felt swollen after the night he spent crying on the floor of their new unfurnished apartment, so much so that it was difficult to open them. But as he neared the ward, he suddenly wished he actually couldn’t see that much because right in front of him were the same team of doctors from last night.

He tensed immediately and stopped in his footsteps, shoulders rigid as he stared back at Dr Lee with an expression of defiance. It took only one glance at the papers the doctor was holding, for him to deflate, but still Yixing struggled to hold his stance.

“I am not signing any goddamned papers,” he snapped tersely, shoving past the doctors to get into the ward and quickly leaned against the door so they couldn’t open it. Staring at a spot on the ceiling, Yixing hummed a tuneless song under his breath and pretended he couldn’t hear them calling him on the other side.

Why? Why couldn’t they leave him alone? Why couldn’t they leave Kris alone? Kris wasn’t going to die. He wasn’t! He was far too young to be brain dead. The doctors are making up lies because they want to cut him up. He choked back a sob. Yes, Kris was only in a coma and he was going to wake up one day. And until then, Yixing was determined to make sure they kept Kris alive.

Only when the footsteps of the doctors fade away did his shoulders sag in relief. Yixing pushed himself off the door lethargically and stumbled towards the bed where Kris laid in the exact same spot as he did yesterday, the week before, three months ago.

“Kris,” he rasped, his hand warm and sweaty against his boyfriend’s cold arm. Yixing shook him hard. “Hey. Wake up. If you don’t wake up, I’m dumping you. I can't be the only one in this relationship.” He shook harder, until the blanket slipped off Kris’ body. His eyes pricked with unshed tears. “Kris Wu! Wake up! Wake up before it’s too late.” He leaned forward, his arms tightly going around Kris’ middle as he sobbed into his shoulder. “You , why won’t you wake up? They’re going to kill you if you don’t then what am I going to do? How dare you leave me alone? Don't you remember what you promised me?”

He was crying so hard he didn't notice the ward door open until the other person spoke up.

“Mr Zhang?”

With tears still streaming down this face, Yixing looked up, prepared to swear at the hospital staff for pressuring him yet again to sign the papers that would end Kris' life. He opened his mouth to speak, but the stranger beat him to it.

“I'm Dr Jung, the hospital director,” he said. “I’m very sorry for your loss but I sincerely hope you would consider the proposal my colleagues brought up.”

There were so many things wrong with the statement Yixing didn’t know which one to point out first. He stared at the hospital director coldly even though the tear tracks on his face made his stare a little less fierce.

“I haven’t lost anything,” Yixing said stubbornly. “Kris is still alive. He just needs to regain consciousness.” With extreme reluctance, he let go of Kris and bent down to pick up the fallen blanket, taking care to cover every inch of Kris with it because he felt so, so cold. Why didn’t the hospital give him thicker blankets?

“And I hardly call that a proposal, Dr Jung,” he continued in a steely voice. “More like your doctors bullying me to give them the nod so if anything happens to Kris, they can put the blame on me.” He stood up to his full height and strode over to the hospital director. “You can save your breath. I’m not going to say yes, not now, not ever. I won’t let Kris die.”

Dr Jung pursed his lips. “Aren’t you a selfish one,” he commented wryly. “You let your boyfriend rot here when he could be saving 10 other people. There are at least 500 people in need of an organ and here you are selfishly hogging onto a corpse while his system expires.

“We’ve already done all that we could, Mr Zhang. Three months is a long time to have on life support when he’s already been pronounced brain dead. There’s no chance of him waking up anymore. It’s for a good cause. If we wait any longer, you can’t even save a single person.  I’m sure Kris wouldn’t want you to be this selfish.”

… Selfish? Was he? Was he really selfish in wanting to keep Kris by his side? That was ridiculous. He was only holding onto the hope that Kris would wake up. How was that selfish?

The hospital director patted him lightly on the shoulder, sympathy in his eyes. “I’ll give you 24 hours to consider. We really can’t afford to wait any longer. Think about it. By holding onto him, you are only prolonging his suffering and many others’. Just let him go.”

-

“How many kids do you want when we grow up?" he asked idly, his head resting comfortably on Kris’ arm on their bed. Yixing trailed a finger up and down his boyfriend’s other arm, pleased to feel the other shiver under his touch. Until Kris laughed at him anyway.

“We are already grown up,” reminded Kris with a chuckle. “Or is 25 not grown up enough for you?”

A pout made its way onto Yixing’s lips. “You know what I mean,” he whined. “Just answer the question before I die of embarrassment.”

Kris grinned. “2 kids? A boy and a girl? What do you think?”

“I like girls,” Yixing decided, determined to ignore Kris’ amusement with him. He then thought of something and narrowed his eyes. “Either way we can’t have kids because someone hasn’t proposed.”

His boyfriend’s grin widened. “Come home early tomorrow and maybe there’ll be a surprise for you,” he suggested, kissing the tip of Yixing’s nose.

-

The memory felt like a joke to Yixing now. He crashed, heavily, onto the row of chairs outside the ward and buried his face into his hands. Everything had stemmed off from there. It was all his fault. If he hasn’t asked for a proposal, Kris wouldn’t have tried to surprise him, then Yixing wouldn’t have made him mad for missing it. Kris wouldn’t have stormed off and drank the whole night. He wouldn’t have gotten into an accident.

“I’m your murderer,” he whimpered into his hands. “I’m the one who killed you.” His already hurting heart felt like it was breaking into a million minuscule pieces. He caused Kris to be in this comatose state.

“Am I really selfish for wanting to hold onto you?” he asked himself tearfully. “Would you be in a better place if I didn’t force you to stay here?”

Yixing inhaled slowly, removing his hands from his face when he suddenly realised a smaller hand poking his knee. He looked up, straight into the face of a pale little girl on a wheelchair, wearing a beanie on her head in the unbearably hot summer.

“Oppa... why are you crying?” she asked curiously. “Are you in pain too?”

Pain. Such a simple word to describe how he felt. Yixing wanted to shout that he was in such agony it stung all over. He felt as though he was navigating through an emotional minefield, as though a figurative hammer was nailing nails into his broken heart and he was bleeding inside.

He closed his eyes in anguish and when he opened them, he stared at the girl, his throat too constricted for him to speak, and nodded numbly.

The little girl looked upset at his response. “Do you have leu… leuke… mee-ah too?” she stumbled over her words, concerned, and the expression was enough to send him over the edge again. He gave her a quick once-over, and the realisation that she looked younger than seven drove the nails further into his heart.

 “You… have leukemia?” Yixing asked, his voice coarse and scratchy even after he had cleared his throat.

The girl nodded solemnly. “Dr Jung says I’m on the priority list for a bone marrow,” she said proudly, as if that was something to show off. “Maybe I can leave the hospital next month!” Her small hands reached out for his. “Don’t be sad. I’m sure it will be your turn soon.”

When the nurse came to wheel the girl away, Yixing turned his hand over to see the packet of gummy worms she had stuffed in his hand. His eyes mist over at the decision he was suddenly sure of and with a heavy heart, he went to look for Dr Jung.

-

Things moved quickly from there. The moment Yixing signed Kris’ life away, the doctors held a discussion and decided to free up an operating theatre for Kris. It was all too fast for Yixing, to learn that they will be pulling the plug off Kris’ life support machine that very evening. Whenever he closed his eyes, he had a picture of them cutting up his boyfriend in the operating theatre and the guilt and nausea washed over him so badly he wanted to retch.

“You have until seven,” Dr Jung told him kindly before he left Yixing alone in the ward with Kris.

Salty tears formed and fell, leaving constant wet trails on his cheeks. He couldn’t stop crying. Yixing gazed at the unconscious blond on the bed through his blurry vision, a dull, empty ache gnawing at his soul. For days and weeks, he had been praying for Kris to come back to him but in two hours, there would be no chance for Kris to return.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered unsteadily and without another thought, Yixing crawled into bed next to Kris, hiding his face into his neck and soaking his hospital gown with tears.

Yixing placed a gentle kiss on Kris’ lips, shaking so badly he nearly missed. “I love you,” he told him, his voice raw with emotions as he closed his bloodshot eyes grievously. “I love you and I can’t live without you.”

He wrapped his arms around Kris’ waist tightly for the last time and fell into a restless sleep.

The next thing he knew, the nurses were shaking him. “It’s time to go,” one of them was saying.

No. It was too soon. Yixing clenched Kris’ hospital gown tightly and leaned further into the blond. He didn’t want to let go but he knew there was no more hope. His breathing hitched at the thought of Kris no longer existing in the same world anymore.

Yixing lowered his head, his lips brushing against Kris’ ear.

“Wait for me. I promise I won’t be late this time,” he whispered quietly, and let the nurses wheel Kris to the operating theatre.

When the doors swung to a close, Yixing his heel and blindly staggered out of the hospital. At first he thought his vision was fuzzy because he wasn’t quite awake yet, but then he felt the dampness course through his cheeks and down his neck and realised grimly that those were tears. Well, he wasn’t going to cry for much longer.

Spying an incoming truck turning the corner, he stepped off the curb and stood patiently in the middle of the road. If Kris wasn’t around anymore, then he didn’t want to be either. For three years, Yixing had been ruining dates and breaking promises, turning a deaf ear when his boyfriend complained he was never there for him. Not anymore. This time he intended on keeping his promise.

The shrill sound of his phone’s ringtone cut into the silence of the night as Yixing was steadying his heartbeat and mentally preparing himself for the hit. His lips curled into a scowl in frustration, yet for some reason he picked up the call just as the truck turned and its bright lights shone fiercely into his eyes.

“Hello? Is this Mr Zhang? Kris Wu is awake.”

A/N: Comments are GREATLY appreciated! I haven't written angst like this before so it'd be great to know if this one-shot made you emotional or gave you ~feels~. I recommend you listen to this too. It's really beautifully played.