Want It All Back - Ending 2

Want it all back
Alternative ending 1: Night

A flurry of snowflakes danced upwards as Vicious set his fighter down. There was more snow than last time, when it had at least been clear of the streets, now it was everywhere. On the streets, the sidewalks, the roofs, the open plots where the building had been torn down, covering the piles of crates and barrels with a fine white coat and soaking through his shoes. It came down in white flakes from the grey sky, landing in his hair and on the black feathers of the bird sitting on his shoulder. By the time he had found Gren’s apartment, the blue building not surprisingly covered in snow, he was eager to get out of the cold, maybe take a hot shower. He rang the bell and waited for the door to open, Shimensoka glaring at a random passerby from her perch on his shoulder. The door didn’t seem inclined to move and he looked up, wondering which of those empty windows were Gren’s. One of the windows opened and a figure leaned out into the snow. The dull light glinted off a single earring. The figure shouted something down, Vicious had to strain to hear it.
“Oii, down there! Stay right there, I’ll open the door.”
Sure enough, the door opened with a buzz, allowing Vicious to push it open. He climbed the stairs to Gren’s from door and was greeted again by Fade, who held open the door for him. Shimensoka looked at the man, but didn’t think he was very interesting. She beat her wings and flew to the couch, closer to the heating, and ruffled her feathers. Vicious looked around the little living room. It was empty, apart from his bird and he looked back at Fade, who had just closed the door.
“Isn’t Gren home…?”
Fade glanced in the direction of Gren’s bedroom, scratching his head.
“He is, I’ll go tell him you’re here.”
Vicious followed Fade at a distance to the other room, waiting outside the door when Fade went in, but looking inside. The room looked gloomy in the half light, and he could barely see the bed, until something moved. He watched as Fade spoke softly to a very sleepy Gren, and when he walked closer Fade got up from the chair next to the bed. Vicious sat down.
“You’re back.”
Gren’s voice was soft, and he sounded a little surprised, as if he hadn’t expected Vicious to really return.
“I promised I would.”
“It all went to fast…”
Vicious smiled slightly and took Gren’s hand in his when it reached out for him. The hand felt cold.
“How are you feeling?”
Gren smiled back at Vicious.
“I’m fine, just tired and a little cold…”
“Well, I can help with one of those.”
Vicious took off his shoes, and his coat too, this time, and stepped into the bed. Gren moved close to him, and Vicious wrapped his arms around him. Gren felt more fragile than he had last time, as if he hadn’t eaten at all, and Vicious was careful, not wanting to crush him. He listened to Gren’s breathing until he was sure he was asleep, and then he kept listening just to make sure Gren was breathing. Eventually, he fell asleep as well.
When he woke up the next morning, the house was silent. Vicious couldn’t hear anything outside, the heating died as usual and inside the house there was no sound either. It took a moment before he realised he couldn’t even hear Gren breathing, and the body in his arms was completely still. He looked at Gren’s face, and it looked so calm, but just a little too much so. Suddenly, he couldn’t bear staying in the gloomy little bedroom and carefully got up, pulling the blankets around Gren again, even though it was useless. He walked the now familiar corridor to the living room and stood on his spot in front of the picture wall. He carefully took off the picture of him and Gren on Titan and held it in his hands. On the couch, Fade was just waking up and sat up to look at Vicious, who refused to turn around. Fade watched Vicious’ back.
“So it’s happened…?”
Vicious nodded, still holding the picture.
“I think he’d want you to keep that.”
Vicious looked up at the picture wall and the empty spot where he took the picture in his hands. He nodded again, wanting to tear down all the pictures, all those dead eyes staring at him, but not able to move.