so i dunno if you all have noticed, but i wrote these all at, like, 3am after i finished the second season. so they're all crazy and not very accurate. but i like them. and i like this one a lot. and this is the last one i have written for now. so let me know if more would be wanted.

It was late. Like, "I'd finally gotten home from working at the hospital and I'd already washed my face and brushed my teeth and gotten in my pajamas so now I could finally have some wine and watch some crappy tv and go to bed" late. And that's when there was a knock on the door.

"Holder?"

He shoved the door the rest of the way open and kissed me. It was sloppy and desperate. He tasted like stale cigarettes. His hands were on my face, keeping me by him, waiting for me to react. Then he pulled away.

"Linden," he said.

Linden.

Linden.

Linden.

Of course.

He didn't want to be here.

I pulled away sharply, away from his hands. Away from his mouth. I couldn't look at him.

"Shit. Angel..."

"Where is she?"

"... She left."

I looked back. He looked so... sad. Lost. Hurt.

Just last week, when I'd seen him, he'd been physically broken. Now he was broken in a different way.

"Been workin' all day. Tellin' everybody it's fine, ya know?"

"But it's not."

"Will it ever be?"

I took his hand, locked the door, led him to my room.

"Angel, no, I-"

"Shh."

I got him my brother's old t-shirt, some boxers I slept in when it was warm. Told him to change in the bathroom. Patted the bed next to me after he did.

He was awkward at first, just sitting there. Favoring the bruising on his left side. I finally got him to lay down. Put his head in my lap. Ran my fingers through the short blonde locks.

"Rest, Stephen."

He sighed, then. A whole body sigh. Wrapping his arms around my legs, he held onto me. From the slight shaking, I could tell he was trying not to cry.

He fell asleep long before I did. I only knew when because he finally relaxed. He'd rolled away at some point, though. His back was to me now. I scooted down to lie next to him, fists curled against his skin. I kissed his tattoo, gently, not wanting him to wake up. Then I, too, slept.

When I woke up, he was gone.

He'd been right earlier, at the hospital. Waking up alone isn't fun.

FIN. And that's all I have written for now. PEACE OUT.