"Fucking hell, Hart. Why the fuck are you still here? Go to the lab, go--go fucking cure it, man. I'm fine. I'll try not to die without you." Harry offered as he tried his best not to be upset or scared, he tried to find that bitter acceptance that he was supposed to have by now but mostly he just felt cheated. He felt cheated, robbed and screwed over and it was hard to accept defeat but he had to because he couldn't even stand up lately so what else could he do?
Seethe and hate everything until the last pathetic moment. And he didn't want Hartley to see that, it wasn't right.
"It's a nice day today, isn't it? I can see the sun from here." He squinted towards it, wondering if the rain was finally going away. "You should be out there, not in here. Do it for me, I'm fucking bored. Let me live through you."
"Oh yeah. It's all because of you. If it wasn't for you, I'd be out there in the park, shirtless tanning. Having a jolly good time." Hartley said it drily, then he leaned forward to grab a hold of Harry's hand. He wanted to kiss him properly, but his lover was coughing up blood. Obviously kissing was a no go. Instead he kissed along his arm, nuzzled his shoulder.
"All that happens when I go in the sun is that I freckle and burn." Maybe he wasn't quite as bad about it as Harry, but it wasn't as if either of them tanned. "I'll leave the shirtless frolicking to the Siriuses of this world."
A nice mental image, if nothing else. "I'll go to the lab later." When Harry was asleep. He couldn't stand the thought of wasting even a moment otherwise.
"I don't tan either. Just burn. I never liked the sun, like it even less these days. I sweat more, I feel sick, my eyes fucking hurt." Harry sighed in annoyance and then raised his hand to run through his hair. He lost a lot of it while he was in hospital, chemo was a bitch and he was almost rocking a crew cut these days. He hated it. He hated how he looked, he hated how he felt and he hated the world.
"Don't let me hold you up, I'm going nowhere. Nothing exciting today." He paused and then tilted his head to the side. "I guess I get a pity visit from the gay gang."
He didn't really know them well but Hartley got a lot out of them so he didn't go too hard on them. They just wanted to be nice. He got that. Still felt like pity,
"Then I can be around for the pity visit too. You never know, maybe Sirius will be shirtless." Slightly inappropriate, but certainly a welcome sight. "It's not really pity. It's just-- Most people don't want to be alone, I guess. Don't want anyone to be alone."
Hartley felt alone. But he supposed he ought to be used to that. He'd always been alone. There was that time when he'd been with Harry before it all got worse. He hadn't felt lonely then. Finally had someone.
He ran a hand along the side of Harry's face and tried a smile, not sure how successful it'd be. "I know they hurt, but they're still beautiful. Your eyes. They're amazing. Defying reason. I couldn't stop thinking about your eyes after I met you the first time."
"I was handsome then. Had an -- an alternative charm, yeah? Like an indie rocker. Everyone said tight pants made you look like a faggot so I wore mine as tight as I could." Harry joked with a small laugh, feeling sick when he remembered what it was like once. To be healthy. Attractive. Feeling good about himself. "I guess I always liked sunglasses so it's no big loss. That the meds made me light sensitive. Or everything sensitive."
He laughed again and then he coughed and then he couldn't stop. He lurched away from Hartley, afraid of getting any blood on him, leaning the other side of the bed, coughing until he vomited.
By the time he was done, he lay back, lightly giggling. Not with joy, he was sobbing and he didn't know when he'd started. "It's just not fair that it's me, Hart. Why--What-- What did I do?"
Hartley watched Harry, knowing that he was helpless here. All he could do was ring for a nurse, because they'd have the equipment to clean this up. All he could do was look at his lover and realise that he wasn't good enough to help him. If he was smarter, had better connection, had started sooner. If he could somehow advance science all by himself...
Instead he'd tried to ask his parents for funding and gotten no answer from his mother. Told that he deserved to die of AIDS by his father. And all the anger he had was as useless as his sadness and his fear.
"It's not-- You didn't do anything. This fucking disease isn't some punishment, it's just senseless and cruel and I hate it." He wanted to cry, but he was trying to be strong here, for whatever reason. So he could wrap his arms around Harry and hold him, for all the good that didn't do. "You're so strong. You'll-- I'll keep working on it. Treatment. Cure. I'm not that far off, you know? I got some correspondence going too, some blokes in America think what I'm doing is promising."
"I believe in you, Hart. Just think it's too late for me but, like, good for everyone else. That I inspired you. Means I'm a hero too, right?" If he had to die to cure AIDS, he guessed that was something. He sniffled and wiped at his face, embarrassed that he lost some composure but he just didn't want to die. He was twenty six and he hadn't done half of what he wanted to yet.
"I don't want to die in here." Harry told Hartley as he looked around at the nurses and doctors. "I don't want to die like my dad. I want to die at home. Please. Please, help me, I don't want this."
It was always his worse nightmare. He hated hospitals. "I want to end it there."
"Yeah. All right, I get that." Hartley didn't want him to die at all. Did it matter to him where it happened? It wasn't as if he could stand being at home without Harry now. He couldn't imagine still living at home once Harry was gone. He couldn't imagine the world without Harry in it. "I won't let you die in here."
He promised it and he hated himself for saying it, because it was acknowledging that Harry would die. Would perhaps even die soon. "But you're not dying just yet. Okay? You'll... You'll get better and I'll take you home. And if you don't want to, you don't have to come back here again. I know how to take care of you. Least then you can't mistreat any nurses, you asshole."
"Oh, I'm sorry but come the fuck on. She asked me how my day is going. Take one fucking look at me and you tell me how my day is going?" Harry complained with a huff, taking the paper off the side of his bed and opening it up with trembling hands, looking at the crossword to distract himself. "Dippy bitch."
Harry was rude on most days but right now, he was testy like nothing else and God help anyone who came near him but Hartley. "When you the gay boys get here? Are they bring you baked goods? Cause they fucking better. If they come here with fruit and not chocolate, I'm throwing it at them." Just fair warning.
"Ohh, I'm sure they'll cower in fear of your throwing arm." Hartley rolled his eyes, combing his fingers through Harry's hair to fix it up a little. Then he used the towel the nurse handed him - whom he muttered an apology to - to gently wash Harry's face, not wanting to disturb him from looking at the crossword. "Sirius is coming soon. I'm guessing any minute now. And I assume he's bringing the boyfriend. Not sure who else is coming."
He had been distracted on the phone. Of course he had been. "Baked goods are guaranteed though, with Aziraphale involved."
"Man, I can't believe Sirius settled with that guy. Out of all guys. Talk about some local gossip. People were so pissed." Harry laughed, playfully indulging in some gossip as he let Hartley wipe his face, frowning at the crossword as he realised he knew fuck all about current UK pop culture. He didn't really watch TV much these days and politics made him way too angry.
"Best part about the AIDS group is the drama, you know?" He loved it. The Felix and Holden saga, the stuff with Sirius, the whole lesbian rebellion where they split off to form their own group. He loved it all. "I'll miss those messy bitches."
"It's so stupid. Everyone I've heard bitching about it is delusional, as if Sirius would have ever gone for any of those idiots." Hartley felt that was pretty obvious. He knew a little bit about Sirius's dating history. For one thing, it had always been less extensive than some claimed, for another, he was clearly looking for someone special. And here he was now, with Remus. "Apparently Sirius hasn't told his best friend who's like a brother to him about Remus yet. Not properly. Not the HIV part. And that bloke's straight, so I wonder how that is going to go."
Speaking of gossip. "Don't think I could be friends with anyone straight." He could barely be friends with anyone anyway. "I'm no good at friendship though, men just tolerate me when they learn I'm good at sucking dick." Perhaps an exaggeration, but Harry liked raunchy humour.
"I mean, it is an amazing asset you have. I love the way you suck dick." Harry remarked idly as he stopped pretending to read the paper and tossed it aside with a bored expression, looking at Hartley instead. "I went to a few parties with him before, he was always way more lowkey than people suspected. Give a guy a leather jacket and he automatically becomes a sexy player."
With an amused laugh, he shook his head, full of disbelief. "I had a straight friend once. It sucked. Straight people are just more boring and they have these fucked up ideas in their heads about how we should be. Fuck 'em all."
"I know. We stereotype too much, as a community. I think I mostly started wearing contacts so people would realise how slutty I really am." It had kind of worked out, so he wasn't complaining, but it was pretty pathetic. Just had to fit those stereotypes.
"I'm very intolerant of straight people these days. Not sure if that makes me a bad person, but I don't care." He had no patience for most of the population anyway. "That's my advice to Sirius. Stop being friends with straight people. Seems like needless hassle."
"Legit, man, legit. You're singing my song." Harry snorted in amusement and then yawned, resting his head back on the pillow and looking at Hartley with such fondness and love. He was so handsome, so funny, so witty and no one really got him. Their loss, his gain. He loved him and he hoped when he was long gone, Hartley found someone else. He needed to be loved, he was that sort of guy.
"Hart, can you get me some mints from the vending machine? I hate the taste in my mouth." He always did, like chemicals and sickness. He wanted to not think about it.
"I'll do that. And I'll be right back. Maybe get you a coke or something too." Whatever he could make him consume to get any calories, at this point. Hartley kissed Harry's forehead and then got up, smiling briefly before he headed out of the room.
He walked right to the vending machine, got what he needed and on the way back he walked into Sirius and Remus. Sirius was carrying a paper bag of Aziraphale's cookies and Hartley led them into Harry's room, immediately giving Harry the mints. "The gay boys are here."
"Yeah, it's the poufter parade," Sirius said in agreement, one arm around Remus, "You know, Haz, you're kinda lucky. You've always been pale, so you make looking like shit look intentional."
Still better than just asking him if he was doing well, Hartley supposed.
"I mean, I always had bags under my eyes too. People always asked me if I was sick when I wasn't and now I feel like my body owed them something. It's a load of shit." Harry made himself sit upright and ran his fingers through his hair again. "What do you think of the new look? I told Hartley I look like I'm in the twink military."
"It's not bad, at least your ears don't stick out like mine. I'll look well daft if I have hair like that." Remus smiled as he looked at Harry, a horrible vision of his future. He felt so bad for him and he was trying, he really was, but it was scary.
And Harry knew that, he could sense it from Remus' body language but he didn't draw attention.
"How's the old ones? Uncle Holden and Auntie Felix?"
"Felix is going to commit murder. He's been planning his Pride outfits and apparently someone else bought some of the same fabric. Or just the same colour story? I don't know, but he was yelling about it. An outrage, apparently." Sirius hadn't been listening that much, but it had admittedly been exciting. He kept his arm around Remus, understanding how tough this was for him. But that why he was trying to brighten things up a little. If just for a few moments.
Harry looked like hell, Hartley looked exhausting too. it was all depressing, but Sirius had been told so often that he could change to mood in a room. He was certainly trying. "Remus and Holden are planning some kind of fundraising calendar for the bookstore. I might be on the cover."
"And that's a nude calendar?" Hartley asked with interest, turning to Remus. "Professional curiosity."
"We all just want to know how naked you will be and what month, that's all."
"They're thinking June, it's a fun month but honestly, it seemed to be evolving from someone different every month to Sirius posing in different ways every month." Remus blamed Felix but hey, whatever sold the calendar would be amazing so he was down. "We all discussed it and Sirius has the most mass appeal."
"Oh yes, straight girls love him as much as us fags." Harry smirked and put a mint in his mouth, chewing it happily. "What you raising money for? More for the AIDS stuff or anything fun like a coffee machine in the book shop? Cause that seems like a better goal."
"I'll end up being all of the village people. Apart from the Native American, apparently that's insensitive." Or so Holden and Remus had explained, Sirius was happy to go along with whatever. He had fun posing too, so why not? By now he had done it a couple of times for their various projects and causes. "If you want a sneak peek, Haz, I can unbutton a little. I think half of the money is for AIDS research and the other half is for some renovations in the store?"
"Maybe just correct it. Don't know any Colin with a big dick. I know Crowley has one." Everyone knew that, he wore tight pants like Harry. "Holden and Felix should fix up their own place a bit. The way they're offering it out to people whenever needed."
"Those sentimental saps need something for themselves." Harry coughed again, leaning forward as he hacked up some bloody phlegm into the tissue Hartley gave him earlier. Remus winced but tried to hide it, knowing that they had to keep things upbeat. God, Harry could be dead tomorrow and he could do nothing. For him or himself. It was so weird.
"Give me a sneak peek." Harry said finally voice raspy and horrible as he lay back in bed and looking up at Sirius, smiling sadly. "It's my make-a-wish. Shirtless Sirius."
Well, his wish was Hartley and him retiring somewhere nice and never being stressed again but that seemed impossible so he'd take this.
"Who can say no to those baby blues?" Sirius knew this was quite insane and in a way morbid, but he also knew that it was reality. Was life for a lot of queer men now. So if he could brighten the day just a little by being silly and, yeah, shirtless, he'd strip down any time. He handed Remus his jacket, having shrugged out of it, then unbuttoned his shirt. "I'd do this sexier, but there's no music."
"Oh, it's just fine." Hartley assured him, sitting next to Harry and rubbing his shoulder. "How is it living with that, Remus? Does he use it to distract you and get out of chores?"
Maybe not everyone was as easily distracted as him.
"I think the more he does it, the less it works. I'm building a natural immunity but-- it slips."
"I can see why." Harry whistled playfully and looking at Hartley, waggling his eyebrows. "Hart used to do that to me by accident. Under the geek look, he's a hunk. Trust me. He's got a yoga bod that rivals Sirius but only I get to see it." Which made it pretty special.
"Everyone gets to see Sirius. He's for the people, you know. With great power comes great responsibility." Remus joked as he held his boyfriend's clothes and kept an eye out. "Let's try not to get thrown out, Sirius. I'm setting a time limit for a minute at most."
"I can't do it like he does." Whatever flip he switched that made him go from gorgeous to irresistible. Turning on the charm, Hartley supposed. He had never managed to do that on purpose, not in any capacity. Even now he was blushing because of what Harry had said about it. "I don't have a body anywhere close to this. Don't be so stingy, Remus. Those nurses have to deal with grumpy patients all day, let them look at your boyfriend for a bit."
Sirius laughed, sticking his tongue out at Harry. "You better not die before you can pick and design a month for that calendar. I know you know what appeals to the poufters."
"Don't we all." Hartley shook his head, then playfully covered Harry's eyes. "Don't fall for him, he's a siren."
"I can resist it, I promise. I only got eyes for you, promise. Though his chest ain't half bad, eh?" Harry joked as he playfully patted Hartley away and leaned forward, kissing the back of his hand and hoping Hartley remembered to wash his hands. They were in a risky place, he didn't want to fuck up. "He is singing the song of my people but look how good I am at resisting. This is the point you praise me for being the best boyfriend."
Remus snorted in amusement and tossed Sirius' shirt at him. "Shirt on or no one here will buy the calendar. Stop giving it away for free."
"Shit." Harry snorted in disbelief and shook his head. "I wanna see that calendar." All twelve months of it for a whole year. He really wanted it. He didn't want to die. He bit his lip and fought back any anger or sadness. "I have ideas."
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Seethe and hate everything until the last pathetic moment. And he didn't want Hartley to see that, it wasn't right.
"It's a nice day today, isn't it? I can see the sun from here." He squinted towards it, wondering if the rain was finally going away. "You should be out there, not in here. Do it for me, I'm fucking bored. Let me live through you."
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"All that happens when I go in the sun is that I freckle and burn." Maybe he wasn't quite as bad about it as Harry, but it wasn't as if either of them tanned. "I'll leave the shirtless frolicking to the Siriuses of this world."
A nice mental image, if nothing else. "I'll go to the lab later." When Harry was asleep. He couldn't stand the thought of wasting even a moment otherwise.
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"Don't let me hold you up, I'm going nowhere. Nothing exciting today." He paused and then tilted his head to the side. "I guess I get a pity visit from the gay gang."
He didn't really know them well but Hartley got a lot out of them so he didn't go too hard on them. They just wanted to be nice. He got that. Still felt like pity,
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Hartley felt alone. But he supposed he ought to be used to that. He'd always been alone. There was that time when he'd been with Harry before it all got worse. He hadn't felt lonely then. Finally had someone.
He ran a hand along the side of Harry's face and tried a smile, not sure how successful it'd be. "I know they hurt, but they're still beautiful. Your eyes. They're amazing. Defying reason. I couldn't stop thinking about your eyes after I met you the first time."
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He laughed again and then he coughed and then he couldn't stop. He lurched away from Hartley, afraid of getting any blood on him, leaning the other side of the bed, coughing until he vomited.
By the time he was done, he lay back, lightly giggling. Not with joy, he was sobbing and he didn't know when he'd started. "It's just not fair that it's me, Hart. Why--What-- What did I do?"
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Instead he'd tried to ask his parents for funding and gotten no answer from his mother. Told that he deserved to die of AIDS by his father. And all the anger he had was as useless as his sadness and his fear.
"It's not-- You didn't do anything. This fucking disease isn't some punishment, it's just senseless and cruel and I hate it." He wanted to cry, but he was trying to be strong here, for whatever reason. So he could wrap his arms around Harry and hold him, for all the good that didn't do. "You're so strong. You'll-- I'll keep working on it. Treatment. Cure. I'm not that far off, you know? I got some correspondence going too, some blokes in America think what I'm doing is promising."
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"I don't want to die in here." Harry told Hartley as he looked around at the nurses and doctors. "I don't want to die like my dad. I want to die at home. Please. Please, help me, I don't want this."
It was always his worse nightmare. He hated hospitals. "I want to end it there."
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He promised it and he hated himself for saying it, because it was acknowledging that Harry would die. Would perhaps even die soon. "But you're not dying just yet. Okay? You'll... You'll get better and I'll take you home. And if you don't want to, you don't have to come back here again. I know how to take care of you. Least then you can't mistreat any nurses, you asshole."
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Harry was rude on most days but right now, he was testy like nothing else and God help anyone who came near him but Hartley. "When you the gay boys get here? Are they bring you baked goods? Cause they fucking better. If they come here with fruit and not chocolate, I'm throwing it at them." Just fair warning.
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He had been distracted on the phone. Of course he had been. "Baked goods are guaranteed though, with Aziraphale involved."
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"Best part about the AIDS group is the drama, you know?" He loved it. The Felix and Holden saga, the stuff with Sirius, the whole lesbian rebellion where they split off to form their own group. He loved it all. "I'll miss those messy bitches."
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Speaking of gossip. "Don't think I could be friends with anyone straight." He could barely be friends with anyone anyway. "I'm no good at friendship though, men just tolerate me when they learn I'm good at sucking dick." Perhaps an exaggeration, but Harry liked raunchy humour.
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With an amused laugh, he shook his head, full of disbelief. "I had a straight friend once. It sucked. Straight people are just more boring and they have these fucked up ideas in their heads about how we should be. Fuck 'em all."
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"I'm very intolerant of straight people these days. Not sure if that makes me a bad person, but I don't care." He had no patience for most of the population anyway. "That's my advice to Sirius. Stop being friends with straight people. Seems like needless hassle."
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"Hart, can you get me some mints from the vending machine? I hate the taste in my mouth." He always did, like chemicals and sickness. He wanted to not think about it.
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He walked right to the vending machine, got what he needed and on the way back he walked into Sirius and Remus. Sirius was carrying a paper bag of Aziraphale's cookies and Hartley led them into Harry's room, immediately giving Harry the mints. "The gay boys are here."
"Yeah, it's the poufter parade," Sirius said in agreement, one arm around Remus, "You know, Haz, you're kinda lucky. You've always been pale, so you make looking like shit look intentional."
Still better than just asking him if he was doing well, Hartley supposed.
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"It's not bad, at least your ears don't stick out like mine. I'll look well daft if I have hair like that." Remus smiled as he looked at Harry, a horrible vision of his future. He felt so bad for him and he was trying, he really was, but it was scary.
And Harry knew that, he could sense it from Remus' body language but he didn't draw attention.
"How's the old ones? Uncle Holden and Auntie Felix?"
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Harry looked like hell, Hartley looked exhausting too. it was all depressing, but Sirius had been told so often that he could change to mood in a room. He was certainly trying. "Remus and Holden are planning some kind of fundraising calendar for the bookstore. I might be on the cover."
"And that's a nude calendar?" Hartley asked with interest, turning to Remus. "Professional curiosity."
"He's a professional pervert," Sirius agreed.
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"They're thinking June, it's a fun month but honestly, it seemed to be evolving from someone different every month to Sirius posing in different ways every month." Remus blamed Felix but hey, whatever sold the calendar would be amazing so he was down. "We all discussed it and Sirius has the most mass appeal."
"Oh yes, straight girls love him as much as us fags." Harry smirked and put a mint in his mouth, chewing it happily. "What you raising money for? More for the AIDS stuff or anything fun like a coffee machine in the book shop? Cause that seems like a better goal."
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"Maybe just correct it. Don't know any Colin with a big dick. I know Crowley has one." Everyone knew that, he wore tight pants like Harry. "Holden and Felix should fix up their own place a bit. The way they're offering it out to people whenever needed."
They really were like everyone's parents.
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"Give me a sneak peek." Harry said finally voice raspy and horrible as he lay back in bed and looking up at Sirius, smiling sadly. "It's my make-a-wish. Shirtless Sirius."
Well, his wish was Hartley and him retiring somewhere nice and never being stressed again but that seemed impossible so he'd take this.
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"Oh, it's just fine." Hartley assured him, sitting next to Harry and rubbing his shoulder. "How is it living with that, Remus? Does he use it to distract you and get out of chores?"
Maybe not everyone was as easily distracted as him.
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"I can see why." Harry whistled playfully and looking at Hartley, waggling his eyebrows. "Hart used to do that to me by accident. Under the geek look, he's a hunk. Trust me. He's got a yoga bod that rivals Sirius but only I get to see it." Which made it pretty special.
"Everyone gets to see Sirius. He's for the people, you know. With great power comes great responsibility." Remus joked as he held his boyfriend's clothes and kept an eye out. "Let's try not to get thrown out, Sirius. I'm setting a time limit for a minute at most."
"Aww, boooo. I'm dying, let me oggle."
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Sirius laughed, sticking his tongue out at Harry. "You better not die before you can pick and design a month for that calendar. I know you know what appeals to the poufters."
"Don't we all." Hartley shook his head, then playfully covered Harry's eyes. "Don't fall for him, he's a siren."
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Remus snorted in amusement and tossed Sirius' shirt at him. "Shirt on or no one here will buy the calendar. Stop giving it away for free."
"Shit." Harry snorted in disbelief and shook his head. "I wanna see that calendar." All twelve months of it for a whole year. He really wanted it. He didn't want to die. He bit his lip and fought back any anger or sadness. "I have ideas."
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