FicWad

The scene began to melt away. The only sound either of them could hear was that of the leader's soft tears, and even that faded after a few seconds. Silence filled the air with thick tension.
"Well I was there on the day they sold the cause for the queen, and when the lights all went out, we watched our lives on the screen. I hate the ending myself, but it started with an alright scene," the leader sang softly, trying to console himself. Normally he wouldn't indulge in such self-pity, but now was different. He had spent so much time trying to help the patient...but apparently all he had done was for nothing. The man really was ungrateful. The leader realized his brother had been correct in trying to convince him that their aid was useless. This only made him feel worse. As if to comfort him, a guitar joined in as he sang the next few lines.
"It was the roar of the crowd that gave me heartache to sing. It was a lie when they smiled and said you won't feel a thing, and as we ran from the cops, we laughed so hard it would sting..."
"That's a nice song," the patient said softly. The leader acted as if he had said nothing.
"If I'm so wrong, how can you listen all night long? Now will it matter after I'm gone?" he continued. He felt his tears start to return. "Because you never learned a god damned thing..." A second guitar began to play, along with a heavy bass line and drums. "You're just a sad song with nothing to say, about a lifelong wait for a hospital stay. Well if you think that I'm wrong, this never meant nothing to you..."
"That's not true," the patient objected. The leader held up a hand before he could say anything else.
"I spent my high school career spit on and shoved to agree, so I can watch all my heroes sell a car on TV. Bring out the old guillotine. We'll show 'em what we all mean..." As he sang the chorus once again, two others began singing different lines at the same time. It blended well.
The patient watched as the leader stopped walking, and the other members of the band finally became visible around him. They were all watching the patient with menacing glares, and he felt the guilt resting on his shoulders. He listened carefully to the lead singer's voice. It sounded like he was crying the words instead of singing them.
"So go...go away...Just go...run away...But where did you run to, and where did you hide? Go find another way, price you pay..." He sang along with the instruments for several lines, all the time sounding more and more depressed. The patient thought about the leader's words so far. He was singing his heart out, saying how he truly felt about the situation. He had given up everything just to help the patient.
Why hadn't he seen it sooner?
"You're just a sad song with nothing to say about a lifelong wait for a hospital stay, and if you think that I'm wrong, this never meant nothing to you...At all..." The drummer and bass player stopped, as did one guitarist. Only one continued to play notes into the fast-returning silence.
"...at all..." The singer's voice was quieter that time. Grief was quickly overcoming him. He fell to his knees.
"...at all...at all..." He barely managed a whisper, and the guitarist finished the song with a few more notes and a rolled chord. Tears began to roll down the leader's face as his friends and brother melted into the darkness. The silence surrounded him and the patient as if it had never left.
"I hope you realize how much this world means to me," the leader said in a quavering voice. He was leaning forward, hands flat on the ground, wanting it all to stop. Just as the patient had been not long ago. "And whether you deserve it or not...I am going to offer it to you."
"But why?" the patient asked in spite of himself. Though it was what he had wanted to hear the entire time, something didn't seem right.
The leader managed to stand.
"Because." It was a simple answer. "I think it would be a wise choice...compared to the alternative..."
"What alternative?" the patient persisted. He was tired of being kept in the dark, so to speak.
"...There is...something else I can do for you. I wasn't going to say anything..." The leader shook his head, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. This was quickly becoming much more difficult than originally planned. "But you do need to make a decision."
The patient took a deep breath in anticipation. The leader clasped his hands behind his back, regaining his formal, militaristic look.
"You could leave this world. Return to the living one, possibly. Nothing is guaranteed." The patient couldn't believe it. He had a chance to live again? There was no way he could pass this up.
"I want to go home." The leader closed his eyes and sighed inaudibly. He knew it. His brother had been right; it was foolish to sacrifice everything the way he had. He could have foreseen that the patient would choose to live again.
He felt a numbing cloud begin to overtake his mind.
'Let me speak to him,' the familiar voice said. 'He will see how wrong his decision is.'
'No,' the leader thought. 'It's not your place. It's not even my place. You're going to destroy everything this has been about.' He fought back against the fog quickly filling his thoughts. This couldn't happen. Not now.
'Too late, my friend.'
He opened his eyes. His gaze fell upon the patient looking up at him pleadingly, and he smirked. It was good to be back.