Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem.

A/N: Alrighty. This is different than anything I've ever written. In this story, Ike has died after Radiant Dawn ended (just pretend he never left Tellius, mmkay? Haha). If you're in the mood for something depressing, this story is just for you. It says that the characters are Soren and Ike, but Ike isn't exactly in this story. I mainly did that because although this story is Soren-centric, the entire story revolves around his feelings about Ike and his death and such. So I consider him a character in this. Also, there's a twinge of that coupling in here (SorenxIke) but I think it may be interpreted as being just friends except for one sentence. But still...Enjoy.

Years had passed. Nothing had changed.

Well, he thought, that isn't precisely true. Things definitely had changed since the time of Ike's death. A deeper depression than he had ever felt took over him, forcing him out of his company. No one could take any more of the sad man still mourning over the loss of the dead commander. And nobody could understand the connection between the mage and the lord…nobody could see why Soren mourned past the time allowed – an unspoken rule. When Greil had died, everybody took it hard, though they still fought on while mourning. However, this wasn't possible for Ike's death. Not for Soren. This was too much, too hard…his only friend, gone in a flash. The only one who knew his deep secret, and it went to the grave as he did. And people expected him to move on and fight and cast spells with no more than a day or two. He couldn't do his magic correctly anymore, and was unable to use his tactical knowledge any longer. His mind was too clouded by thoughts of grief and mourning, stupidity and pity, depression and anger, and guilt. So, so much guilt. And people expected him to go on with his life as he normally would.

That had not happened, however. It wasn't possible. Soren couldn't just forget his friend and all that they had shared. Feelings, secrets, tactics, strategies…And it all went away in a flash. All in one fatal blow. And it was all a mistake.

Just one, huge mistake.

Soren was driven out of the company for a few reasons, just one of them being that the depression had taken over the already less-than-cheery man, and another being that he was no longer of any use to the team – he couldn't use magic anymore. He couldn't be their tactician anymore. Another reason may have just been that the team was sick of him. It didn't occur to them that he had been on Ike's team since the very beginning. It didn't matter to them that the bond they shared was strong, and had not been easily broken. Naturally, it would take a while to stop mourning. How could he not? It didn't occur to them that Ike must have had a good reason to keep Soren on the company, other than personal reasons such as friendship. Soren more than likely would have been able to be a mage and tactician once again. Though a part of Soren couldn't help but feel their new commander (who isn't exactly new – it was Titania, who had been commander before Greil assigned Ike to the position) and the rest of the company had made somewhat of a right decision in dismissing him from the team of mercenaries. He didn't want to indulge in those feelings, but he knew they were there.

A depressed, mourning, branded sage wasn't exactly the best candidate for a new line of work. In other words, Soren couldn't find a new job. No one knew he was branded, as far as he could tell, but Soren knew. And with this knowledge came so much discouragement, and such a lack of self-esteem and confidence, that looking for work was in vain. He was too nervous and shaky and whatever he did, he thought of Ike. Everything always came back to Ike. As they say, you never no what you have until it's gone. And all Soren wanted at this moment was a friend…somebody to share in the few pleasures of life with. Since there was nothing for him at this moment. He knew he would outlive Ike, but he didn't expect it to be this soon…and he didn't expect how Ike would go, either.


Not a job, not a friend. Not even a home.

With unemployment comes the question of residence. Soren was now living in less than favorable conditions. His home was dark, narrow, with no roof over his head and only three walls surrounding him. His home was open and wasn't more than a few meters long, and one or two meters wide. His home wasn't welcoming and nobody even looked his way.

Because his home was an alley.

Though, Soren countered, as if trying to look at the bright side, I suppose that this is rather befitting for me. Me, the one no one loves because of the darkness. I'm alone, without him, and, well, without anyone. Just the way I've always been.

But was that really true? Has he always really been alone? Like the fiction that nothing had changed in the years that had passed, it wasn't precisely true. He had Ike back then. He had the company. And he had a roof over his head. And food.

How could I let him slip away? How could I do this!? How could I do this and keep delaying my feelings and my thoughts? Now look what's happened! Look at what happened to him…and I…

The guilt flooded in. Again. This always happens. Every day for the past three years…Soren would do anything to have him back. He would do anything to go back to that day, that battle, and redo the entire thing. Making sure everything went correctly. And that no one's life would be taken from him…wrongly. So, so wrongly!

Ike…the most beautiful man in existence. The most perfect. The most wonderful. The most graceful. The most grateful. He was the last person who deserved to have his life taken away from him, and yet it was. He would waste his own life to save Ike's, to make sure he was okay at all times. So many people had to go through pain and suffering as Ike died, but nobody would care if Soren had died. Not one single person. He'd like to think Ike would, but really. Would he? Not as much as Soren cared about Ike at this moment. He knew that the feelings Soren had for Ike were not mutual. But the odd part about it is if Soren had the chance to go back and change that part from his past, he would without a second thought. Though the feelings were more than likely not mutual, he still would have wanted to let Ike know. It would have been so much better to let him know than sitting here in this alley pitying himself and wishing fervently wishing he could go back and change time, which he knew was beyond futile. It was insane and impossible, much like the idea of Ike having feelings for Soren like the ones Soren had for Ike. And the idea that Soren would ever be able to get over Ike's death.

But would it have been for the better? It could have risked their friendship for the worse. That was definitely a con to this decision, which was no longer even open for debate. Because there was one little issue: Ike was dead. There wasn't even any debate anymore. That time was over with. Soren had lost his chance, and that was that.

Sadly, though, that wasn't Soren's way of thinking. If it was, he would've gotten over Ike's death long ago, and wouldn't even be having this argument with himself, would still be in the company, would still be able to eat daily, wouldn't be emotionally draining himself to the point of physical weariness, which is usually what it came down to.

It wasn't even justified to grieve over Ike's death. Sure, they had been great friends and comrades, and Soren would go as far as to say he loved Ike. But it wasn't justified…not in the least…with the exception of Soren's feelings. He was being right-brained. But the truth, he knew, was that he was in no way in the regular mourning group, because he wasn't just a normal mourner of Ike's death. And not just because they were close.

Though they weren't in a war, Ike and Soren were sparring. There wasn't a need to, it was just for fun. But one spell went wrong. One single syllable had been changed, accidentally. A complete wrongdoing, a total mix-up. And Ike went down. Soren no longer knew what was happening – the world was turning dark and people were rushing around towards where he lay, cold, and screams could be heard. It was like in his nightmares. And in a small sparring match, a man's life was taken…

…by the hands of his closest friend.

A/N: This is seriously the most depressing thing I've ever written. That, and the best thing I think I've ever written…Please review, and thank you for reading.