Post by blaise on Jan 10, 2010 1:59:31 GMT -5
full name • blaise alexander kennedy.
nick names • he doesn't really have many of those.
age • twenty.
grade • college sophomore, and his major is aviation science.
job • n/a, full-time student.
hometown • chicago, illinois.
sexuality • straight.
member group • college student.
height • 5'11.
hair • over the years, his hair has been subject to a lot of change. it's been short, straight, long, shaggy and wavy, and most recently he cut it so it could fit under his helmets better for when he flies. it's now in a short, styled fauxhawk.
eyes • his eyes are hazel, an equal mix of light brown and green hues that stand out against his olive skin. they could be described as honey colored.
play by • joe jonas.
likes • music, vintage, classics, books, libraries, quiet places, alcohol, peace, wide open spaces, fields, the sky, planes, flying, learning new things, improving himself, guitar, piano, exercising, chicago, the smell of freshly cut grass, succeeding, making new goals, staying organized, being busy, city life, art, photography, polaroid cameras, the simpler things in life, laughing, having a good time, soccer and baseball, good food, history, cigarettes, driving, road-trips, long conversations, sunrise, slow sunday mornings.
dislikes • overly long days, failing in any way, not meeting high standards, modern music, snapping a guitar string, when a piano is out of tune, brittle grass, having nothing to do, alcohol, what his father has become, showing weakness, letting people in, feeling lazy, nosy people, overly loud people, flying, chicago, single-minded people, complications, materialistic things, death, fear, confined spaces, feeling limited, fakeness, liars, backstabbers, people who take advantage of others, physical violence.
habits/quirks • when he's nervous, he bites his lower lip. when he's really focused, his brows will quirk together slightly and his eyes narrow. when he genuinely laughs, the corners of his eyes crease just a little bit. when he's embarrassed, he tends to duck his head. he has the urge to clean things if they're getting very sloppy.
fears • death, becoming like his father, failing at his dreams, being alone all his life, making mistakes, losing people in his life, falling apart.
dreams • blaise has dreamed of being a heroic pilot figure, ever since he was a little boy watching his dad fly those planes. unfortunately his vision of the career has been skewed, but it's in his blood and he's got a natural aptitude for it - plus he loves the sky. he wants to finish college with excellent scores, be the top of his graduating class, and fly planes, helicopters, or whatever it is that can get him in the sky. he'll go wherever the jobs are, but it's not about the money for him. in his wildest dreams, he wishes he could be an artist, go everywhere, do anything, travel the world on a whim. but he's long lost his spontaneity in life, and chooses to remain 'realistic.' he wants to let the walls down and maybe find some happiness for himself, but he thinks it's impossible because he's always fighting his demons.
secrets • his father is an alcoholic and the disease ruined his life, and has slowly torn apart the kennedy family. blaise keeps it under wraps, but he's also become a very heavy alcoholic and he's afraid it's going to ruin him and his future. he was also in love at a few points in his life, but the most strongly was about a year ago. he thought he was going to marry the girl, but she died in the one thing he loves the most - an airplane. it's a constant internal battle within him.
overall • dreamer, fighter, realist, strong, courageous, golden-hearted, serious, quiet, slightly cynical, witty, intelligent, confident, secret-keeper, gentle, tenacious, stubborn, loyal, honest, valiant, hard-worker, diligent, focused, intense, angry, resilient, artistic, free-spirited, open-minded, adventurous, unwilling, afraid, protective, kind, means well, relentless, unobtrusive, steady, unchanging, wounded, cautious, mistrustful, trustworthy, curious, independent, fierce, simple, tragic, classic, nice, accommodating, stoic, logical, genuine.
mother • diana magdelena kennedy; 42; small business owner.
father • anderson knox kennedy; 51; retired pilot.
siblings • n/a.
pets • n/a.
other family • n/a.
overall • It was an awfuly nasty day, the day that Anderson Kennedy and Diana Cavalini ran into each other. The wind chill in Chicago was unbelievable - then again, it was the middle of February, but the cold was dipping into record lows. Diana's hat flew off her head of curls and she chased it down the street with a single-minded determination that impressed the people who watched her on her way. Anyone else would have left that hat alone, but she loved it and she was not going to lose it to the stupid weather. The twenty-six year old businesswoman was surprised to see that someone had picked it up, and this young man, thirty-five year old Anderson Kennedy, handed it right back to her with a charming grin. He was decked out in his pilot's uniform, getting prepared for the next flight that he was going to be in charge of later that evening. Diana was flustered, but he said it was no problem and in fact asked her for dinner... about a week from that day. She was understanding enough to wait for him, and they had an amazing time together. They matched on so many levels that they couldn't even believe they'd met by chance.
It wasn't long before they began to regularly see each other, and then they were wed just outside of the city in a small suburb. The wedding was everything they'd ever wanted, simple and classic, and they had all their friends and loved ones there for them. Diana and Anderson were sure that they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together, and everyone thought they were the perfect match. In fact, they loved each other so much that they were sure they'd last forever. Nothing could ever mar their relationship.. nothing, that is, except for Andy's growing alcoholism. But that would come back to plague them later. They moved into a nice little apartment overlooking lake Michigan and settled into a comfortable life. About a year after their marriage, they had their first and only son. They named him Blaise Alexander; Alexander was for Andy's grandfather, who was also a pilot - all the men on his side of the family had been fliers. Andy hoped that his son would carry the legacy. Diana was delighted with motherhood and worked from home, while Andy continued to fly. Their future seemed brighter than ever.
Blaise was brought into a warm, easygoing environment. He adored his father and mother, asking his mom to read him bedtime stories, and asking his dad to tell him all the things about flying. It was clear he'd be a talent even at such a young age - he had the spark and the interest for it. Through elementary school and middle school, Blaise's father was his absolute hero. He wrote all his reports on him, and almost saw him as invincible - his dad could do no wrong. He was the best, better than spiderman or superman could ever hope to be. Around the end of middle school, Andy's alcoholism caught up with him. Diana began finding beer bottles everywhere, and with each one she collected another piece of her heart broke. She wanted to stop it while it was early, but she had no idea the history of alcoholism in the Kennedy's family. Too gentle to speak up, she allowed him to continue, and eventually Anderson was hospitalized numerous time for alcohol poisoning and over-drinking. The bills began to pile up, and Diana didn't know what to do. She knew she had to do something, however, the day Blaise came home from 7th grade and saw his father surrounded by empty bottles. Wondering what that could be and why his father liked it so much, he took a first drink and spit it all back out. Little did he know that the first drink would certainly not be his last.
The young man began to understand his father was sick. He began to see that he was an alcoholic. Blaise hit high school in stride and worked hard to make his father proud. Not that his father was even ever conscious at this point. It made him bitter, but it never made him stop working to be the best. He missed their little flights on his father's private plane in the big fields out of the city, but those were all but stopped now that his father lost all control about drinking. Things were changing, and Blaise could feel that his pretty little life was going to be ruined. The worst day of his young life was the last day of Junior year, when his father quit flying altogether. His hero had finally fallen, and he didn't know what to do. Eventually he decided it would be best to take his spot and be the man of the family, but he had no idea how hard that would actually be. Nevertheless, Blaise was not deterred. He began to work an after school job to help his mother out, and hid the fact that his heart was breaking. His dreams were crushed. It was during this time that Blaise fell into alcoholism himself, drinking to ease the sorrow and eventually falling to the same disease that had destroyed his father.
Everything was wrong. He graduated top of his class, but hated what he'd become. He hated his father for what he'd done to his mother, or to him. He hated him all the nights he picked up a beer bottle, or when his mom and he would check the mail in fear of an eviction notice, or when he would go into his mom's room late at night and find her sobbing, and just hold her. His father became progressively ill, so much that they could barely afford the bills and the things that he demanded to stay healthy. Blaise shouldered these burdens with a quiet resilience, retreating into himself and building walls so that nothing could hurt him like this. Eventually he was accepted into Northwestern University on a scholarship, a very prestigious honor which was a bright spot in the Kennedy's life. If only his father could walk a little bit straighter, so that Blaise could properly follow his footsteps and become a great aviator. The steps that Andy had left as of late were all crooked, and Blaise could only trip and stumble after him. If only Andy could walk a little straighter, because Blaise was still trying to live up to his shadow. All the things that Blaise had accomplished, and his fallen hero couldn't even give him a nod of approval, and it was just another blow that he felt he could never recover from.
It wasn't as if he was going down with a fight. In his freshman intro class, which he was making excellent grades in, he sat next to a strawberry blonde named Alina. She was quirky, sweet, and she won his heart faster than he'd ever thought possible. They began to spend every waking moment together, and Blaise told her all his dreams, all his secrets. He would take her to his field, the one twenty minutes outside of town that his father used to fly him out on, and they would just lay there and be with each other. She became a strong area of support in his life, and Blaise felt himself pulling together under her gentle care. He'd loved before, but never like this. Diana loved Alina because she was working wonders on Blaise, turning him into a brighter, stronger version of the broken young man he'd become. He'd never lose her, right? Hell, he was going to marry the girl. He just needed a few years to work off their debt, start over new, and buy her a ring. Things were going to be right, because he was going to be someone for her. He was going to be the hero, this time. No more broken fairytales.
Never would he have guessed in a million years that he would be torn away from the one spot of sunshine, from his future. Alina was traveling to California to visit her grandparents over summer break, and she was going to call him when she landed. The call never came. Worried sick, he jumped for the phone when he got a call 72 hours later, and this call was the call to end it all. He was informed by her sobbing parents that she had died in that plane, as it had crashed in Nevada. Blaise dropped the phone, feeling apathy numb his entire body. He never got the feeling back. He'd lost her in a plane, the machines that he had dedicated his entire life to. Where was he even supposed to pick up, now? He stood in the rain in her funeral, wondering why life was so cruel. No matter. He wouldn't let it get in his way. He'd have to fly, even though his heart would split open every single time.
His mother tried to comfort him, but he simply became more quiet, more driven, more solemn. Nothing was going to deter him from his path. He was enrolled for another year at Northwestern, but his father's condition was worsening so they had a choice; move to NYC for a more affordable, dependable treatment center, or stay in Chicago and slowly run bankrupt. Diana was so in love with Andy, so dedicate dto him, that she decided the best thing would be to move. Blaise left his education, and his old life behind him because he loved his broken hero that much. They would at least try to fix him. The Kennedys have now settled in New York City, with Anderson attending a treatment center and Blaise attending college full-time. His scholarship covered most fees, so he's able to continue studying aviation science and eventually fly for his liscence. He's fighting his alcoholism, fighting all his demons, but he's not going to give up. If he were a quitter, he would have lost a long time ago.
your name • kiki!
your age • eighteen.
roleplaying experience • four years.
how you found us • snooping around.
roleplay sample •
He could perfectly remember the day when the world stopped turning. It had been a few years ago, a normal Thursday afternoon when it happened and it left him absolutely dumbfounded. That day was a day like any other; his mother had dragged him off to the doctor's office for his routine check-up. He wasn't worried, of course, because there was no reason to be. Freddie was in-shape, very athletic and full of life, as well, so he'd go through this stupid procedure just to find out that he was doing well. The whole ride there, he had grumbled and groaned and caused a fuss at his mother, who patiently smiled at him and shook her head. In his mind, this was a waste of his afternoon, but he'd thank her one day. Freddie went through the entire thing in a pretty bad mood, snapping at the nurse and then the doctor when they asked him to do a certain thing. When the doctor gave him the clean bill of health, he was ready to sprint out of there and never come back - hospitals made him nervous, for many reasons. There were too many dying sounds there, it made him nervous and it brought back memories of his younger brother suffering, sick from the diabetes that would plague him all his life. He suppressed a shudder and tried to leave, but that was when his mother stopped and informed the physician about the weak spells that he had been suffering more and more frequently; there were periods of time where he couldn't even move, he was so drained, and there was no reason for this at all. The doctor seemed concerned and decided to draw some blood for testing, which aggravated Freddie even more. Secretly, he was shaking like a leaf on the inside. The results would come back clear, wouldn't they? They had to. His jaw clenched fiercely and he did his best at pretending that he was just fine - after all, he was Freddie fucking Clarke. Nothing could touch him, he was at the top of the world. He didn't have STD's and he'd never stayed home with a cough.. this would be nothing. In a few minutes, he'd go home and go back to his great life.
When the doctor walked back into the room, he knew something was wrong. His mother's shoulder's slumped, the way they did when Max was diagnosed, and his breath caught in his throat. Each thud of his heart grew more and more uneven, painful even. The minute he heard the words "I'm so sorry,", he knew he was dying. Freddie felt like everything was spinning around him so quickly and there wasn't a way to make it slow down. He demanded to know what the doctor was sorry for, and that was when he was told that he was suffering from a dormant, terminal illness. The illness had only begun to show now, and it was aggressive. He had a 15% survival rate, which was very low; hearing that number made his heart sink into his stomach suddenly. How much time was there left? According to the doctor, it was anywhere from 6 months to 6 years, but apparently he'd be lucky to make it past a year, if even that. Freddie hung his heavy head, fear shooting through his veins like liquid ice. This couldn't be happening to him, this shit only happened in cheesy soap operas or angsty chick flicks. He closed his eyes shut and his jaw clenched fiercely, and then he wished with everything in his weakening body that this would go away. Maybe someone could save him and everything would be alright. In his mind, however, he knew that he'd lost the battle before it'd even begun. His insides crumbled and he stood up abruptly, walking out of the room as he heard his mother ask the doctor about anything they could do to prolong his life. Freddie's shoulders stiffened, but they slumped eventually just like his mother's and he leaned heavily against the cold wall outside the office. Everything had changed in one afternoon, and he felt himself breaking under the sudden shift. When his mother walked out, she had determined tears in her eyes and she gently touched his arm - Freddie looked at her with the most broken hazel eyes, and it was all she could do not to burst out crying. As a Christian woman she never asked God why, she just accepted the trials with good grace and kept her faith strong; the same couldn't be said for Freddie. Sure, he wanted to believe in God, but after his best friend died he had seriously started questioning. And now, this 'God' was hellbent on killing him and leaving his mother heartbroken. Why did she have to have two sick kids? "I'm so sorry," he'd whispered, and then she said "Shh, please,", her voice strained. A few long minutes were spent finishing the visit, and then they went home in complete and utter silence. That memory was deeply engraved in the young man, and even now in the hospital bed, it haunted him.
The next few weeks after his diagnosis had been a hell on earth. The entire Clarke family was shaken by the news, but Freddie begged them to go on with their lives as if he wasn't a biological time bomb. He wanted to have a normal time with his family, not have everyone treat him like he was made of glass. With that, he proceeded to keep this deadly secret under wraps. No one, not even his closest friends, knew what he was suffering. When they accused him of being a jackass for no reason, for being a bitch and a horrible person, he accepted these accusations and kept swimming through. He had it all worked out - in these next few months, he'd do everything that he'd always wanted to do. He'd go skydiving, rocky mountain climbing, and he'd ride every single roller coaster on the east coast. As hard as it would be, he planned on being the best person that he could, always having a smile on his face even when it got hard. It scared him, but after he'd made his choices he saw himself changing. He spoke more sweetly, and watched a million chick flicks with his mom just to lay with her and treasure their time. He went to work with his father and wrote a few songs, and he went to church more often and even lead a few worship services with his voice and guitar. He hung out more with his brothers, playing music with Max and telling him 'he wasn't so bad after all'. Freddie felt himself opening to love, only because he knew he didn't have much more time to give or receive it. Everything was going well, until he met two people that changed his life forever. One of the girls was short, slender, with messy hair and big blue eyes, and too many piercings for him to count. Athena Williams. As much drugs as she did, as much sex as she had, she made him feel alive. When she was around, he felt like she paid attention to every little thing that made him tick. The other girl was tall, picturesque, with brunette hair and piercing eyes, with the classic movie star look about her. Carter Sanders. She challenged him, knocked him down, and beat him at his own games more than once. He couldn't remember how many times he had stayed up late cursing her name, gotten in a fight, and then gone out of his way to make it up to her. He was confused about a lot of things, but Freddie knew himself well enough to say that he loved both of these girls and valued them.
And to his surprise, he just kept falling faster. Carter caused a burning in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't quench, and now that she was here in the flesh he felt overwhelmed. He had been immature with her not so long ago, but his sickness had almost aged him and now he knew just how cold the world could be. There was no more time for fucking around, he had to be serious and step up. It didn't matter that he would choke on the words 'I love you', because he knew they had to be said. Freddie was at his most vulnerable, something Carter hadn't seen very often, and this was the only way that he could be open. His hands continued to shake violently, and he almost flinched when her skin touched his. These days, he was so fragile, and he looked especially breakable as he was hooked up to a tangled mess of machines. His hazel eyes, dulled with weariness, met her own and he tried to think of the easiest way to say it. There was no easy way out of this. "Carter, I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier, but please know that this is hard for me." Freddie's voice remained as hoarse as ever, as if he were losing any kind of strength he might have had. "A few years ago, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and there isn't a cure." He averted his gaze, wishing that he didn't have to do this. This hurt too much, admitting that he didn't have long yet. The worst part was the fact that he was putting Carter through this as well. The hospital was a place where you only said 'goodbye', the one thing that Freddie never wanted to say. The young man sighed heavily; they said that love was watching someone die, but he never wanted that for her. "I'm sorry." Those two words, once so hard for him to say, rolled off his tongue like rainwater. There was no room for pride here, no room to be the boy that he used to.
As much as it was going to hurt, Freddie had to be perfectly clear about his condition. Many people broke the news to their loved ones a lot more easily, but he'd never been one to avoid things unless he had to. "Carter Marie," he said softly, turning his eyes back to hers and searching them with a hungry intensity. "I'm dying." He fell silent and allowed the words to sink in, feeling his heart plunge into his stomach as he looked at her beautiful face. This was by far the hardest part of it - leaving her, and knowing how close that they had been. Never knowing what could have been between them. She had touched his heart, and touched his soul, and he knew her like the back of his hand. Carter had changed his life, and there wasn't a way to deny that. He'd kissed her lips, held her hand, shared his secrets with her.. all of this made it that much harder to say goodbye. "There's nothing I can do, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you, and I'm sorry about all the promises I won't be around to keep. I never meant for it to be this way. I don't think I can fight anymore, Carter. I'm so tired, and I know I don't have much longer left. I'm completely at peace with this now, there isn't any use to be angry, not when I don't have the time." Please don't give me a reason to be angry, he thought fervently to himself, hoping that she didn't want him to fight. Freddie had fought everything in his life, for all his life, and he couldn't do it anymore. With effort, he leaned forward to brush her cheek with a kiss, the breathing tubes also touching her skin as he did so - a reminder of just how sick he was, how imperfect the moment was. "I'm not sure about anything anymore," Freddie said quietly, settling back into the bed with burning eyes, "but I can say I love you without fear. I hope that's enough." He waited for her to speak, feeling like he was strangled by the silence in the room and hoping to God that he wouldn't lose her. It would be easier if she just got up and walked away, if he severed all the ties that he had so that when he left it was easier for everyone. What they had was irreversible, and he knew it.. but he still hoped that maybe she had the strength to leave, something that he didn't have.
When the doctor walked back into the room, he knew something was wrong. His mother's shoulder's slumped, the way they did when Max was diagnosed, and his breath caught in his throat. Each thud of his heart grew more and more uneven, painful even. The minute he heard the words "I'm so sorry,", he knew he was dying. Freddie felt like everything was spinning around him so quickly and there wasn't a way to make it slow down. He demanded to know what the doctor was sorry for, and that was when he was told that he was suffering from a dormant, terminal illness. The illness had only begun to show now, and it was aggressive. He had a 15% survival rate, which was very low; hearing that number made his heart sink into his stomach suddenly. How much time was there left? According to the doctor, it was anywhere from 6 months to 6 years, but apparently he'd be lucky to make it past a year, if even that. Freddie hung his heavy head, fear shooting through his veins like liquid ice. This couldn't be happening to him, this shit only happened in cheesy soap operas or angsty chick flicks. He closed his eyes shut and his jaw clenched fiercely, and then he wished with everything in his weakening body that this would go away. Maybe someone could save him and everything would be alright. In his mind, however, he knew that he'd lost the battle before it'd even begun. His insides crumbled and he stood up abruptly, walking out of the room as he heard his mother ask the doctor about anything they could do to prolong his life. Freddie's shoulders stiffened, but they slumped eventually just like his mother's and he leaned heavily against the cold wall outside the office. Everything had changed in one afternoon, and he felt himself breaking under the sudden shift. When his mother walked out, she had determined tears in her eyes and she gently touched his arm - Freddie looked at her with the most broken hazel eyes, and it was all she could do not to burst out crying. As a Christian woman she never asked God why, she just accepted the trials with good grace and kept her faith strong; the same couldn't be said for Freddie. Sure, he wanted to believe in God, but after his best friend died he had seriously started questioning. And now, this 'God' was hellbent on killing him and leaving his mother heartbroken. Why did she have to have two sick kids? "I'm so sorry," he'd whispered, and then she said "Shh, please,", her voice strained. A few long minutes were spent finishing the visit, and then they went home in complete and utter silence. That memory was deeply engraved in the young man, and even now in the hospital bed, it haunted him.
The next few weeks after his diagnosis had been a hell on earth. The entire Clarke family was shaken by the news, but Freddie begged them to go on with their lives as if he wasn't a biological time bomb. He wanted to have a normal time with his family, not have everyone treat him like he was made of glass. With that, he proceeded to keep this deadly secret under wraps. No one, not even his closest friends, knew what he was suffering. When they accused him of being a jackass for no reason, for being a bitch and a horrible person, he accepted these accusations and kept swimming through. He had it all worked out - in these next few months, he'd do everything that he'd always wanted to do. He'd go skydiving, rocky mountain climbing, and he'd ride every single roller coaster on the east coast. As hard as it would be, he planned on being the best person that he could, always having a smile on his face even when it got hard. It scared him, but after he'd made his choices he saw himself changing. He spoke more sweetly, and watched a million chick flicks with his mom just to lay with her and treasure their time. He went to work with his father and wrote a few songs, and he went to church more often and even lead a few worship services with his voice and guitar. He hung out more with his brothers, playing music with Max and telling him 'he wasn't so bad after all'. Freddie felt himself opening to love, only because he knew he didn't have much more time to give or receive it. Everything was going well, until he met two people that changed his life forever. One of the girls was short, slender, with messy hair and big blue eyes, and too many piercings for him to count. Athena Williams. As much drugs as she did, as much sex as she had, she made him feel alive. When she was around, he felt like she paid attention to every little thing that made him tick. The other girl was tall, picturesque, with brunette hair and piercing eyes, with the classic movie star look about her. Carter Sanders. She challenged him, knocked him down, and beat him at his own games more than once. He couldn't remember how many times he had stayed up late cursing her name, gotten in a fight, and then gone out of his way to make it up to her. He was confused about a lot of things, but Freddie knew himself well enough to say that he loved both of these girls and valued them.
And to his surprise, he just kept falling faster. Carter caused a burning in the pit of his stomach that he couldn't quench, and now that she was here in the flesh he felt overwhelmed. He had been immature with her not so long ago, but his sickness had almost aged him and now he knew just how cold the world could be. There was no more time for fucking around, he had to be serious and step up. It didn't matter that he would choke on the words 'I love you', because he knew they had to be said. Freddie was at his most vulnerable, something Carter hadn't seen very often, and this was the only way that he could be open. His hands continued to shake violently, and he almost flinched when her skin touched his. These days, he was so fragile, and he looked especially breakable as he was hooked up to a tangled mess of machines. His hazel eyes, dulled with weariness, met her own and he tried to think of the easiest way to say it. There was no easy way out of this. "Carter, I'm sorry. I should have told you earlier, but please know that this is hard for me." Freddie's voice remained as hoarse as ever, as if he were losing any kind of strength he might have had. "A few years ago, I was diagnosed with a terminal illness, and there isn't a cure." He averted his gaze, wishing that he didn't have to do this. This hurt too much, admitting that he didn't have long yet. The worst part was the fact that he was putting Carter through this as well. The hospital was a place where you only said 'goodbye', the one thing that Freddie never wanted to say. The young man sighed heavily; they said that love was watching someone die, but he never wanted that for her. "I'm sorry." Those two words, once so hard for him to say, rolled off his tongue like rainwater. There was no room for pride here, no room to be the boy that he used to.
As much as it was going to hurt, Freddie had to be perfectly clear about his condition. Many people broke the news to their loved ones a lot more easily, but he'd never been one to avoid things unless he had to. "Carter Marie," he said softly, turning his eyes back to hers and searching them with a hungry intensity. "I'm dying." He fell silent and allowed the words to sink in, feeling his heart plunge into his stomach as he looked at her beautiful face. This was by far the hardest part of it - leaving her, and knowing how close that they had been. Never knowing what could have been between them. She had touched his heart, and touched his soul, and he knew her like the back of his hand. Carter had changed his life, and there wasn't a way to deny that. He'd kissed her lips, held her hand, shared his secrets with her.. all of this made it that much harder to say goodbye. "There's nothing I can do, and I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for all the times I hurt you, and I'm sorry about all the promises I won't be around to keep. I never meant for it to be this way. I don't think I can fight anymore, Carter. I'm so tired, and I know I don't have much longer left. I'm completely at peace with this now, there isn't any use to be angry, not when I don't have the time." Please don't give me a reason to be angry, he thought fervently to himself, hoping that she didn't want him to fight. Freddie had fought everything in his life, for all his life, and he couldn't do it anymore. With effort, he leaned forward to brush her cheek with a kiss, the breathing tubes also touching her skin as he did so - a reminder of just how sick he was, how imperfect the moment was. "I'm not sure about anything anymore," Freddie said quietly, settling back into the bed with burning eyes, "but I can say I love you without fear. I hope that's enough." He waited for her to speak, feeling like he was strangled by the silence in the room and hoping to God that he wouldn't lose her. It would be easier if she just got up and walked away, if he severed all the ties that he had so that when he left it was easier for everyone. What they had was irreversible, and he knew it.. but he still hoped that maybe she had the strength to leave, something that he didn't have.