A/N:The lyrics belong to "Birthday" by the Cruxshadows.

You never thought the first day of December would mean anything more than your birthday.

*~*~*

The matress underneath you shook and your first panicked thought was that there was an earthquake. Before you could even think of a reaction though a cheerful voice said, “Wake up birthday-boy!”

Only then did you realise that the supposed earthquake was in fact Chester’s energetic bouncing on the bed. You growled for an answer, smiled sleepily and turned on the other side.

“You ruined my beauty sleep.”

“You’re already too beautiful, idiot,” Chester said turning you towards his side again and planting a kiss on your long nose. “And I’ve made you an awesome breakfast that’s waiting.”

After that, the day would roll on magically, with you going to a fancy restaurant where Chester would order -because he claims your taste in food is worse than English and American kitchen combined together- and then going to a nightclub to dance and get drunk to your bones.

The best thing was that no one cared that it was two men dancing with each other, no one cared that two men booked a hotel suite for themselves or that they were holding hands. It’s not like you had AIDS or something.

Roll out of bed, look in the mirror

And wonder who you are

Another year has come and gone

*~*~*

That year you didn’t have to go out since Chester had insisted he used his cooking skills for your birthday. No need to say it had been a dinner fitting a king and Chester seemed happy with your compliments.

If only you hadn’t gotten up to help Chester with washing the dishes. Still there couldn’t have been a way to avoid it.

“What’s this?” you asked picking an envelope with Chester’s full name written on it.

The dishes were almost smashed into the washing machine and Chester turned around to see what you were talking about.

“Oh just nothing-”

“It’s the results of your blood tests!” you said face shining with realisation as you opened the envelope to read whatever was diagnosed.

That’s why you probably didn’t notice Chester’s growing discomfort. "Uhm, yeah... It's the tests I did some months ago when I kept getting sick, remember?" He started rubbing his palms against his jeans as though they were sweaty. "I thought that you didn’t need to know today, it’s your birthday, we have more important things..." but his words faded when he saw your expression changing and your eyes racing across the lines.

You didn’t understand too much. Something about the immune system, blood cells, infected antibodies. What you did understood was the conclusion though. Acquired immune deficiency syndrome. Human immunodeficiency virus. AIDS, HIV, call it whatever you want.

You looked up at Chester with a mind struggling to absorb the information. Struggling to make the connection between Chester and AIDS was something beyond your imagination. Because no one ever thinks it will happen to them. Somehow your mind made another connection too. The first day of winter. The first day of December. Your birthday. World AIDS day. How ironic. You hated the possibility that maybe, just maybe some higher power could be playing with your lives.

Chester must have noticed the angry frown on your face because he got even more anxious clenching his hands together. “The doctors said it probably was from when I was a drug addict and used second-hand syringes, you know... I swear I had no idea! I don’t want you to think I could ever knowingly do that to you... Uhm, maybe you should take a blood test too...”

He saw that you didn’t answer and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them you saw the tears welling up, however you still couldn’t bring yourself to speak. You couldn’t think for your mind had stopped.

“I’m so sorry... I honestly didn’t know... And I will understand, you don’t even need to worry about it, just give me one or two days to pack my things and I’ll be gone...” Now Chester was barely keeping down his sobs so he made to walk around you and start packing away. This birthday had been ruined enough.

However, your mind finally clicked into function again and you grabbed Chester’s arm. “You’re insane if you think I hate you or I’ll even let you leave.”

It was meant to be a comfort but Chester was crying even more. “I don’t think you get it Brad. I’ll die in a few years. And till then your life will be chained down to mine! Confined and ruined for nothing at all other than a waste of money. And I love you too much to see that happening.”

You took Chester’s face in your hands only to realise you were crying yourself. “What makes you think that my life will mean anything away from yours? What really means nothing is time and money. I won’t let you throw our love and life away. I’ll make sure about that as long as I live.”

That winter’s first night you neither slept nor spoke to each other any more words. The tears and embrace said everything.

Today is your birthday

But it might be the last day of your life

What will you do if tomorrow it's all gone?

*~*~*

Since then, everything changed dramatically. You took a blood test but were luckily found uninfected. You would have turned the whole world upside down to find any medicine that would improve Chester’s condition, that would protect his system from the simplest of illness that could prove lethal, extend your lover’s expected life span.

The decision to leave Linkin Park hadn’t been an easy one. You also had to restrict your social circle to avoid having Chester infected by any carried microbe. Sadly, there was no need for that because the circle became narrower by itself the moment it was known that Chester had AIDS. And to think that you lived in the 21st century, where people were correctly informed about the disease.

You called them narrow-minded, homophobic idiots. Chester simply accepted it saying it was understandable. Both of you had somehow turned into optimists since that night. Each one for different reasons. You thought that being optimistic was a way to support Chester and keep him healthier. Chester thought that he was going to die anyway, so he should enjoy every minute he had.

It took a while, at least a year, for you to get used to your new routine but you managed it. You made frequently your necessary visit to the special clinics for a check on Chester’s health, give him those miraculous AZT and DCC that tried to hold the immune system from breaking down. You had become obsessed with being so clean, your house was possibly cleaner than a medical laboratory.

That peaceful optimism could always be shattered any moment though. Whenever Chester got a fever or intense sweating, you would suffer a silent panic attack. You never got too intimate like other couples anymore, Chester wouldn’t allow you to risk transmitting the disease because of sex. But there were times when you came home to find him with eyes bloodshot red from crying. And you couldn’t say anything consoling to convince Chester you wouldn’t abandon him every other day, as the singer thought. And you couldn’t say anything because you don’t ask someone why they’re afraid of dying.

Yet you were there for each other’s fears, to support each other’s life.

And tell me what really matters

Is it the money and the fame?

Or how many people might eventually know your name?

But maybe you touch one life

And the world becomes a better place to be

Maybe you give their dreams another day

Another chance to be free

*~*~*

You now hate the first day of winter. It’s not due to your birthday. It’s because you’re reminded that you’re not being merely an overprotective lover, that Chester can die any day now with his health getting even worse. His heart and courage despite all the suffering could have held for centuries but not his body that was slowly surrendering itself. You hated to see Chester’s flawless skin turning almost into a colour of old parchment, watch him gradually fading away from your grasp. What a hopeless, helpless pathetic excuse of a lover you were.

This 1st December you wake up later than usual. Outside snow is already falling but you don’t notice because Chester’s absence from your side is noticeable from the first second. Chester never left the bed before you woke up too. The feeling of dreadness in your chest only increases when you hear the door of your apartment slamming shut.

You jump out of bed and halt in shock to see Chester coming home from outside. He had dressed warmly enough and looked adorable with the rosy colour the wind had brushed on his cheeks. Of course that doesn’t stop you from throwing a panic fit.

“What were you thinking? It’s snowing outside!” you exclaim sounding almost hysteric to yourself.

Chester, on the other hand, puts his shopping bags on the kitchen counter and then removes his scarf and coat with a calm smile. “How do you expect me to make you a decent birthday dinner when our fridge is emptier than a desert?” He says it light-heartedly, although you know the guilt that’s consuming him from the inside.

Those last few years Chester’s every second word would be one of gratitude or apology. Especially on your birthday, his guilt increases even more because you’re unable to go out like you used to. One more reason for you to hate the first day of December since you don’t believe Chester should be feeling guilty.

Like anything Chester cooks, the dinner is pure perfection. Well, very near to perfection if you count the fact that since Chester returned home, he’s having violent coughs that contort his features in an expression of pain. You can’t bear to see that expression so you lower your gaze to your now empty plate.

When you look up though, your love is smiling again even if the smile is faint. He stands up taking your hand and leads you to sit down on the sofa. “Close your eyes!...and don’t cheat,” he says and you do so because you can’t really deny him any favor.

All you hear is his shuffling around and you feel behind your eyelids the lights being turned off. The couch sinks as Chester sits beside you and takes your hand in his. You’re almost chilled by his icy bony fingers but open your eyes the instant he tells you to.

At the sight before you, you laugh although it’s not a mocking laughter rather than one of amusement and delight. You think back on your previous birthday cakes and realise that no one ever knew you so well to combine M&Ms with white cream and caramel syrup. On second thoughts, it could be because anyone else would find it rather revolting. Only Chester deemed of your strange tastes as innovations. Afterwards, when you reminisce that night over and over again, you wonder how Chester squeezed all the candles of your age on the round surface.

“This is...”

“Good?”

“I’d say it’s beautiful, but you outshine it.”

Chester gives you a light punch on the shoulder and rests his head on it. “Make a wish then!”

You blow the candles and faithfully make the same wish as those of the past five years. You wish something or someone would remove that disease, which so unfairly infected Chester. You wish you could plan your common future without that shadow over you. You wish that you had been infected instead of Chester because he didn’t deserve it, he was selfless, very much unlike you.

Without realising it, you turn and your lips are on his, longing for the touch you’ve missed so much. It’s all automatic, you don’t control what you’re doing but your hand is snaking underneath his shirt feeling how thinner he has become. And he kisses back, so you pull him on top of you and make to take off his shirt, when suddenly he pulls back and you see tears welling up in his eyes.

“I know what you want to do to yourself, Brad, so please don’t...” His eyes are so full of pain, probably both physical and mental, anguish and apology that you can’t meet them and look away. A small voice whispers in your mind that perhaps Chester hadn’t been that optimistic and strong as he wanted you to think after all, that perhaps you weren’t the only one providing some kind of protection but you try to push those thoughts away.

Chester rests his head on your chest, however he’s still crying only to be interrupted by fits of cough. “You can’t imagine what it feels like...decaying from the inside out... I’m so sorry for ruining everything...”

You merely breathe a sigh and brush a hand absent-mindedly through his hair. You accidentally touch his forehead that is just below the boiling point and sit up switching to ‘panic’ mode instantly. “You’re running a fever.”

Chester simply nods tiredly and says nothing when you rush to the cupboard, where all medicine is kept. You don’t pause to think which one is appropriate, you know all of them, their use, their side-effects by heart.

Even with the medicine, the thermometer shows that the temperature won’t go any lower and Chester has broken into a sweat by then. Still he doesn’t complain, however you take him to bed without cleaning up (on which he stubbornly insisted with no result).

Without meaning to, you consider his words that you wouldn’t be able to bear the disease. And you feel the tears barely being held in your eyes and you see him shivering so badly and you think that he’s right. You wouldn’t bear it. Words won’t come out of your mouth, so you hug him against you as if you could lend him your strength.

By the next morning, 1st December is gone taking Chester with it. You never thought the first day of winter would mean nothing for you.

Thanks for reading! Reviews, good or bad, will be deeply appreciated 'cause I doubt I did the subject any justice...