“I’m sorry,” Harold murmured, curling protectively around John, hugging him to his chest, unmindful of the blood as he soothed John. Harold tried to smile to reassure, but nothing could fix this. Carter was dead.
“John, please wake up,” Harold begged. “I need you. I can’t be strong without you. I’m sorry. I tried. I thought I could. Please wake up.” Harold watched smiling tremulously as John’s eyes fluttered and slowly opened.
“John, this was always our endgame. I’m sorry, but you knew this." Harold's smile was brilliant as he spoke, slipping the ring on John’s finger and kissing him.