The Fault in our Starsigns
Late in the winter of my seventeenth year, my Bro decided that I was depressed, presumably because I rarely left the house, spent quite a lot of time in bed, did nothing but mix new beats at my turntables, ate infrequently, and devoted quite a bit of my free time to thinking about death.
No shit, I told him. Nearly dying could do that to a man.
Or, that one fic that will leave no tear unshed or heart intact because pain is good I'm a bad person and we all know where this is going.