Listening to emo music while writing one shots, bad idea dude. I don't want to look up cancer or whatever disease Alfred has. I'm going with things I saw off of Grey's Anatomy, and yes, I know this will be horribly inaccurate. More emotions that facts for me dudes. Leave a review?

"Arthur, we have to talk." He says it seriously, no childish joy or innocence in his voice. That haven't made an appearance in a while. He squeezes Alfred's hand, telling him he's here for him. "We need to make preparations for everything. Funerals, money, everything."

"Alfred." His voice cracks with pain. "Please, don't talk like you're going to die. Please stop sounding as if you're giving up hope." He nearly begs.

"I'm sorry Iggy." He turns away from his boyfriend. "I'm just, not gonna last much longer. " He hears the small sob come from behind him and tries to explain. "We knew this was going happen."

"Like hell we did! You're not going to die, and stop acting like you are. You can't do that, you can't just bloody give up!" Tears leak from his eyes and his breathing speeds up.

"I'm so sorry Arthur. I'm just not going to last much longer. I can feel it. Now we need to talk about afterward."

"I refuse." The old stubbornness of Arthur Kirkland makes itself known. Alfred opens his mouth to protest but he beats him to it. "I refuse to believe you're going to die from this. I refuse to believe that you're going to give up so easily. I refuse it."

"I tried Arthur. I really tried so hard."

"Well you're not trying hard enough! We beat this so far, you can last a bit longer! You're the bloody hero, heroes don't give up! Alfred, look at me!" He won't turn over and face him.

"Bury me in a small cemetery. Have all our friends there. Call my Mom and make her come. I don't care if she doesn't agree with my life choices or anything, if she doesn't bother attending her son's funeral then she's not my Mother. Let Feli's Grandfather lead the damn thing, just don't let him go off about Rome. Please, please just listen." He was listening, committing everything he said to memory.

"You're not suppose to leave me Alfred. You're suppose to beat the odds and come out victorious. You're suppose to laugh at me for being worried you wouldn't. You're suppose to try and convince me to shave my goddamn eyebrows off and make a wig for you out of them. You're not suppose to leave me Alfred. You're suppose to be the hero, you're suppose save the world."

"Water." He chokes out. Arthur obliges and holds the glass to his lips. "I can't be the hero right now. I just, I just."

"Alfred, look at me!" Why won't he just look at him? That does it, and Alfred bursts into tears.

"I don't want to! I don't want to let you see me like this! I don't want to let you see me so weak and small and thin. I don't want you to remember me like that." Arthur moves and tries to kiss him, but it is dodged and he ends up with cheek.

"You are strong, you are brave, you can fight it."

"But I don't want to anymore!" The words cut both of them deep. "Everything hurts, Iggy! Everything hurts so freaking much. I can barely move without feeling like I ran a marathon. I can't even eat without feeling like I'm going to vomit everything up the next second. I can't deal with it anymore. Everything hurts so much." Tears roll freely. "But that's not the hardest thing. Knowing I'll never get married, I'll never own a house or buy a new car. I'll never get to finish college, I'll never get to insult your bad food again, no, not the worst. But the hardest part of this is leaving you."

"Al-Alfred?"

"Sometimes the hero has to step down and let others take their place. Sometimes the hero gotta just retire. You have to be my hero now, Arthur. You have to save the world, that's your new responsibility." Arthur leans in and gives him another kiss, this time landing on the target.

"You'll always be my hero Alfred. You're everybody's hero, I promise. Now what songs do you want, and you better not say Miley Cyrus or I will beat you senseless, Alfred F. Jones!"

Yeah, this isn't as good as it was in my head. I'm bad at this stuff . Buuuut, In my head this was epic. Growl. Just imagine a dead Alfred and a sobbing Arthur. Yeah, think of that and start crying. Now.