if you never try then you'll never know
“Scorpius?” There was a voice. It was quiet. “Scorpius, are you up?” Scorpius could hear the door creak, and the voice grew louder. “Oh, good morning.”
His eyes were suddenly open. They felt heavy. They shut again, and he let out a soft groan. Everything hurt. He heard soft footsteps and crinkling beside him.
“Are you in pain?” Albus’ voice was gentle- concerned.
Scorpius shook his head. Even that hurt. He bit his tongue.
“You are ,” Albus’ tone held urgency, and Scorpius could hear as he quickly grabbed the potion which had been set down on the table. He slightly opened his eyes to look at Albus, but shut them again and let out a soft whine. It was so bright. He covered his eyes with his blanket-covered hands.
“The light?” Albus asked, mostly to himself, and Scorpius could hear the sound of the light flicking off. He uncovered his eyes, squinting up at Albus. Sunlight flooded in from the window, but it was bearable. Albus frowned down at him. Scorpius didn’t like when Albus was upset.
“Can you sit up?” Albus asked. Scorpius pushed his arms back and they trembled as he forced himself up. Albus wrapped a hand around his waist to support him as he sat up, his back against the headboard. A sigh left Scorpius’ lips, followed by a raspy cough.
“Here,” Albus held the potion out. Scorpius stared at it for a second, feeling his eyes water for some reason unbeknownst to him. He hated that potion. He hated the taste. He hated the way it sat on his tongue. He looked away from Albus, staring at the creases in the blanket which shifted every time he moved his feet or took a breath.
“Scorpius, you need to take it.”
Scorpius shook his head.
“I know you haven't taken it yet. You have to.”
Scorpius stayed silent, unmoving.
“Please.” Albus’ voice was so gentle. Scorpius hated it. He hated him. He wanted Albus back. He knew it was his own fault. Albus was like this because of his illness. But he didn’t care. He just wanted his Albus back. He missed Albus. He missed his dry humor and sarcasm and corny jokes and his dimples when he smiled.
He looked back up at Albus. He was empty. His hair had gotten even longer than the last time he’d paid close attention to it. It reached his shoulders. It was tied up in a messy ponytail, with loose strands falling out of it. His eyes were dull and had dark circles around them. His eyebrows were furrowed and his face was thin. He looked hollow. That wasn’t Albus. He knew it wasn't.
Scorpius turned away again. He heard a sigh.
“I know you don’t want it, but you’ll feel better. Please.”
With shaky hands, he reached out for the potion. Albus handed it to him, and when Scorpius almost dropped it, Albus grabbed it again.
“I’ll hold it for you, just- just drink, okay?” Albus’ voice was desperate. Scorpius couldn’t deny him, no matter how embarrassed he was as Albus lifted the potion up to his mouth to allow him to drink the sickening liquid. He stuck his tongue out once it was finished, coughing slightly.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Albus asked in an attempt to be comforting. It didn’t help. Scorpius laid himself back down, shutting his eyes and turning in bed to face away from Albus. He curled up, the blanket up to his chin. Albus sat at the edge of the bed. Scorpius didn’t bother to look at him. He was too tired. He just wanted to sleep. Why wouldn’t Albus just let him sleep?
“Quite some birthday, isn’t it?” Albus ‘joked’, though Scorpius didn’t know what the joke was. He opened his eyes, looking up at Albus curiously. “Happy birthday, by the way. I… forgot to say that.”
Scorpius’ eyebrows furrowed.
Oh.
“My birthday,” Scorpius managed to squeak out. Talking didn't feel good.
“Yeah,” Albus sounded disappointed, his eyebrows furrowed. “Yeah. Your birthday.”
Scorpius nodded slowly.
“I got you something,” Albus said. He tried to stand, but Scorpius managed to let out a loud whine. Albus sat back down, looking at Scorpius. Scorpius weakly lifted his hand, grabbing Albus’ hand and holding it close to him.
“Oh,” Albus exhaled, his voice nearly a whisper. “Okay.” Albus shifted himself in bed so that he was also laying down. Scorpius turned in his direction, albeit with a few seconds of struggle, and looked into his eyes, frowning and immediately looking away. Albus placed a kiss on his forehead. He smiled despite it all. They stared at each other for a moment. It lasted. One beautiful moment where Scorpius could breathe, thoughts consumed by Albus and rid of all impending doom.
He thought again, and every bit of serenity melted away.
He thought about Albus wasting his life away caring for Scorpius’ sad excuse for a person. Thought about Albus being there for him everyday and him never being able to give anything back. Thought about not wanting to die because, even through death, he would miss Albus too much.
Despite the weight on his chest and the stinging in his eyes, he couldn't cry. It just wouldn't happen. He just turned away from Albus, letting out a rattly cough.
Albus’ hand snaked under Scorpius’ shirt, resting against his waist. The touch felt good. This time, he didn't mind. His skin crawled and he squirmed, but he didn't let Albus pull away. He needed him there.
He put a hand over Albus’. It kept his hand in place. Made sure he didn't move. He could never move. Scorpius didn't want him to.
“I can't believe you're twenty-six,” Albus let out a soft laugh. “So old.”
There was a silence– one that stung and left Scorpius with a bitter taste in his mouth. Twenty-six.
They both knew he wouldn't make it to twenty-seven.
Twenty-six was such an unsatisfying number.
Scorpius’ stomach twisted.
“I wish I could make it to thirty,” Scorpius’ voice came out harsh yet quiet.
“You… you will,” Albus answered. His voice was soft. Careful. He was lying.
“You think so?” Scorpius prodded.
“Yeah. I do.”
“Sure.”
“Really. I do. You're almost there.”
“Yeah.”
Scorpius didn't feel like saying anything else.
“I'm not lying, Scorpius.”
More silence.
Scorpius hated silence.
He hated that it was all his fault. He hated that he couldn't talk to Albus. They couldn't have a single conversation without him being upset or getting mad about something. He wanted more than anything to be a kid again. He wanted careless Albus back. He wanted the Albus who dragged the two of them back in time. He wanted the Albus who always managed to come up with the most convoluted plans to fix things. He wanted the Albus who always got them in trouble and had fun doing it, because it was just the two of them.
This wasn't fun. This was torture.
The silence was dreadful. He needed it to end.
“Do you want to do anything for your birthday?” Albus asked suddenly, as if he could read Scorpius’ mind. “Like, maybe watch a movie or something?”
Scorpius let the idea sit in the air.
“I'll order food–whatever you want. How does that sound?” Albus continued, desperation evident in his voice.
“Okay,” Scorpius forced the words out, even though he felt sick afterwards.
“Okay?” Albus' voice brightened. It sounded pleasant.
“Sushi?” Scorpius asked. Words were hard, but he knew he needed to try for Albus.
“Sounds good,” Albus buried his face in Scorpius' hair, kissing his head. Scorpius smiled.
All he could do was try. Trying made Albus happy. Trying made him feel like he had a bit more control over his life. Trying made him feel like maybe he could last a while longer. Trying was hard. But it was worth it to feel Albus’ previously tense body relax against Scorpius’. It was worth it to hear the teary smile in his voice when he said, “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” Scorpius replied quietly. The ringing in his head was silent and the rattle in his chest was ignored.