The Wilting Rose

They broke apart. Dean sat down on a nearby bed, knees shaking. Seamus continued to stand by the window. The storm was over now, and a light breeze flecked with quenching rain blew in. The thin, white cotton of his pyjamas flapped slightly, making Dean think of angel wings.

"Shay," Dean muttered, breathing it out like a sigh. He pulled his sleeves over his hands and stared down at them. If this was love, then why was it so intense, so excruciatingly painful? He balled the hands into fist, still trying to deny the feelings flowing through him. His nails dug deeper into the flesh until a series of red half moons appeared on his palm. He knew that he was the source of the pain, and not Seamus.

"I can't do this any more!" he shouted, in a voice alien to his own. Striding across the room, he gripped Seamus by the shoulders, speaking shakily.

"I give in! You've won. We'll be together- I know how much you need this."

Seamus stared. Just a stare, nothing more.

"I don't." Seamus turned towards the window again. "I don't want to be with you. I just don't need all your crap. I'm not going to let you go on hurting me."

"But I won't!" Dean insisted, his grip tightening. "Don't you see- we're soul mates." Seamus looked away. "Soul mates!" he repeated.

"No. You wouldn't treat your soul mate like this." Seamus took Dean's hands, surprising him with his strength, and pulled them away from his shoulders. He turned his back again, once more looking out of the window. The rose bush was going wild, a tangle of thorns- and yet, among them beautiful, fragile flowers.

From behind him, he heard Dean's low whisper. "Please- Please. I... need you."

The words hit Seamus hard. Something in his mind was stirring and a strange emotion was now bubbling through his veins. "What was that?"

He knew that he was the one in power. The tables had turned, and now he could break Dean the way he had been broken at the lake. Dean was almost on his knees, a pathetic sight.

"I need you!" Dean repeated. "I love you and I need you. So much." He shook his head sadly and stared at the floor. "So much."

Seamus closed his eyes, trying to block out Dean's pitiful face, the huge chocolate eyes. He couldn't take this, it was too much.

"You're suffocating me!" he told Dean, looking strangely childlike. "Stop hurting me."

Dean laid a gentle hand on his arm. The pleading look in his eyes had gone, his voice was warm and he was now just Dean. "I've turned my back on you once. Do you really think I'd do it again? I've learnt my lesson now- there'll be no more pretending. I just love you, Shay, and I want to make this better."

There was a silence for quite some time after. Nothing but the ticking of the clock and the click of Madam Pomfrey's heels. The tap dripped, like time itself was squeezing slowly out of it. Breaking the silence, Seamus sighed softly, and laid his head wearily on his friend's shoulder.

"I'll make it better," murmured Dean again.