"It's just your time to go." Chris reached down and brushed back the golden blond hair that framed the angelic face laying in the bed. His hands shook as his fingers caressed the pale cheek. "It's just your time," he repeated.

The body in the bed didn't respond. Chris stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for the response he knew he wouldn't get. He smoothed the golden hair that was laying across the forehead and sighed.

It looked like he'd have no choice in the matter. He had to do what he had to do.

"Oh, Christopher," he whispered, "You're so beautiful. It's a damn shame it came down to this."

Chris leaned down and placed a short chaste kiss on the slightly pouting lips. Even in a coma, Christopher, his lover, pouted. It was something he had gotten used to over the years and as he looked down at the pale drawn face below him, Chris could almost pretend that his lover was only sleeping and not near death.

Almost.

"I'm so sorry," Chris told the body laying in the bed.

He took a deep breath and turned his eyes to the machine to the right of him. A slow and steady humming noise punctuated by the occasional "beep" was emitted. Various tubes ran out of the back and to Christopher's nose, mouth, chest, and other various body parts. It was the only thing keeping his lover alive at the moment.

He didn't want to do it, he realized as he fingered one clear tube, but he didn't have a choice. Chris didn't want his lover to spend the rest of his "live" connected to tubes, never able to wake up again. One small tear slipped down his cheek, but Chris didn't notice it.

It just wasn't fair! Why did his Christopher-his beautiful, lively, vibrant Christopher-have to be taken away from him like this? If only he'd agreed to go to that party with him that night instead of refusing. If only someone had offered to drive Christopher home instead of letting him drive drunk. If only that deer hadn't jumped out in front of the car that night.

Chris let out a strangled cry and pounded his fist against the wall. It just wasn't fucking fair. He didn't deserve this and his Christopher sure as hell didn't deserve this! So many people who did worse things always got off home-free, but Christopher did one stupid thing and now he was on life support. It just didn't make any sense!

Chris looked once more at the thin pale body lying in the bed and forced himself to hold back the tears he felt flooding forward. He reached out and fingered the now tiny scar about Christopher's left eye. Six months ago it had been bright red and the most noticeable thing on his face, but now it was barely there. Chris took a deep breath and forced himself to look away as his hand pulled out the tube he'd been holding onto for the last five minutes. He turned his back as he bent over and pulled the electrical plug out of the wall. There was a short "beep" and then silence.

He didn't look back as he stood up and walked to the door. He couldn't. If he did, he'd be forced to look at that sweet angelic face and know that what he'd just done was the stupidest thing ever.

He'd just killed his Christopher.

It was his time after all.