Wesley hadn't believed in fate. Then, when he joined the Fraternity, he started to put his faith in the possibility that maybe there was some otherworldly force at work. That had blown up in his face and again, he was left with cynicism and doubt. But now? If fate was real, he hated it. What point was it to bring him someone like Conrad, someone he could connect with and actually bond with, just to tear him away?
His eyes were wet as he curled his fingers over the bullet wound. He refused to acknowledge any tears that might have broken out and ran down his cheeks. This couldn't be happening. Not again. He'd lost his father. He'd lost Fox. Was this his destiny? Was this why his father had left when he was barely a week old? Guess he was just like his dad. Death was the only thing he was good at.
"Don't talk t-too much. Y-you have to save your energy," Wesley blurted out quickly through shaky lips. "Then we can dance as much as you want!" Conrad's eyes were already going dark but he made one last effort to touch his hand. A choked sob erupted from him but he didn't move. He was bleeding out and he was worried about him?
Wesley shook his head. "I'm not going back to the hotel without-" the rest died in his throat as he felt Conrad's hand slip away. Overwhelming grief hit him and he dropped his head in shame against the other man's shoulder, unable to bring himself to move even as he felt the warmth leave his friend's body.