It's Always Darkest Before the Light

Sean inhaled deeply. The icy autumn wind whipped his face, and sent shivers down his spine, but he refused to move. His fingers were numb, and he'd lost all feeling in his toes, but he stood his ground. The streets were quiet and devoid of any signs of life other than the warm amber glow of the streetlights above. The only sounds to be heard were the occasional rustling of leaves as a startled animal fled the scene, and the rush of the river below.

He craned his neck to peer over the edge, careful not to move his feet. The water wasn't too far below him, but it would be a fair distance to fall. It was rather breath taking actually. Just knowing that if he took one step forward, or lost his footing, even momentarily, he would fall, and that would be it. Done. Over. Everything. Gone. It was a calming thought, and he felt himself lean forwards slightly, without meaning to.

He took another deep breath, taking a moment to think things through one last time. He didn't want to do this. He really didn't. But he felt like this was his only chance to set things right and to finally make amends. He was a fuck up, and he knew it. He heard them talk about him every day. He heard their venomous words and their hateful insults. He heard it all. He knew he was nothing special, and if you asked him, he'd tell you without a single doubt that he was nothing but worthless. Did that mean this was the only option though?

The air was still damp and chilly, and Sean shivered involuntarily. There were goosebumps on both his arms, and he cursed himself for not bringing a jacket. He would't have it long, but it would provide some small comfort in these last few minutes.

He thought of the hastily written note he'd left on the counter in the kitchen. Half of it was barely legible, and there were a few blotches on the page, where the ink had smudged and ran, thanks to an uncontrollable burst of tears before he left. He couldn't help it, it just pained him so much to imagine his mam finding it the next morning when she woke up, humming to herself as she busied about in the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She'd be heartbroken. No matter how bad he'd messed up, she'd always supported him, and she'd always loved him. She was one of the very few who did.

As much as it hurt him, he pushed those thoughts out of his mind. He couldn't bare to think of that any more. He wouldn't have to worry about it soon. Soon, he'd be somewhere else. Somewhere where he wouldn't need to constantly fret over his actions.

Sean sighed, the goosebumps on his arm now more evident than ever. He'd made up his mind. He was going to do this. Nothing would stop him.

He closed his eyes, and gulped in as much oxygen as he could, knowing that this - should everything go to plan - would be his very last breath. The thought terrified him, but he didn't show it. He closed his eyes slowly as everything finally sank in. This would be his very last... well... everything. He never had his first kiss. He never got to tell that boy just how much he liked him. He never got to leave the country like he'd planned. Hell, he never even got to have sex.

He shook it off, though, and cleared his mind. He let everything go, taking that one last step, and it was over. He was gone.

Except he wasn't gone. Sean opened his eyes, and scanned the scene in confusion. He was still stood on the stone structure, with the river rushing hungrily below him, taunting him. What had just happened?

He turned around, confusion written all over his face, and that's when he saw him. Stood behind him, with a firm grip on his arm, which Sean hadn't noticed before, was Ian Watkins of all people, his dark eyes filled with worry, and the fresh tears that lined them glinted in the light.

"Sean..." he choked out. "Please."

Sean stared at him. This was some sort of hallucination. It had to be. He'd hit the water with a sickening thud and a monstrous splash, and right before he passed out, he was imagining the one person he loved the most, and how things could be different. But he wasn't hallucinating. Ian was there. He was standing in front of him. He was there. And more to the point, Sean was alive.

He was beyond words. "I... Why?" was all he managed, before he broke down, sobbing into the other boy's hoodie as he pulled him into a tight embrace.

Ian, too, was crying, but he made it less obvious. He had to be strong for Sean. "Sean Smith, I fucking love you, okay? I love you."

Sean froze. He was just saying that, right? I mean, he'd just stopped the kid from leaping off a bridge, he could hardly say he hated him. He looked up at Ian, his eyes wide, and the older boy offered a weak smile.

"I mean it, Sean. I love you," Ian whispered softly, still holding the shaking boy in his arms. "Please don't ever leave me like that."

Sean wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, his entire body still shuddering violently. Ian shrugged off his hoodie, carefully pulling Sean's arms into it, before sitting down and pulling the blond boy with him. He wrapped his arms around Sean's middle, and continued with the hushing sounds that he hoped would calm him down, just a little.

It worked, and although his voice was still shaky, Sean spoke properly for the first time that night. "I-Ian?" Ian looked down at him and nodded. "I... I l-love you t-t-too."

Without thinking, Ian smiled, leaning down so his face was just inches from Sean's, and kissed him slowly.

"Please never, ever do that on me again," he pleaded when they broke apart.

Sean nodded. He was still weary from the whole experience, and he fought hard not to think about what things would be like when he got back home. He'd deal with that later. Right now was all that mattered.

"I promise."