Disclaimer: I own none of the characters within.
Author's Notes:
My dear readers,
I have no words for how I feel right now. I never thought I would finish this story, but your encouragement made it possible. I can't believe it's over. I want to thank each and every one of you for every review you ever gave to me. You need to know how important they are. They made me believe in myself. Thank you.
Many of you expressed interest in my future career as a writer. If you'd like to keeps tabs on me, just keep an eye on my author page here. I'll try and update it as things begin to take flight. E-mail me, if you like; I'm very friendly and love to talk. Perhaps our paths will cross some day. Wouldn't that be wonderful?
May the road rise up to meet you, and may the wind always be at your back.
Ta ta.
---P.
- - -
- - -
- - -
- - -
- - -
On New Year's Day, Pietro sat on the front steps of the Brotherhood house and waited for the sun rise.
Everyone else was still asleep, after partying till midnight. Partying for the rest of them, anyway— to everyone's surprise, his own included, Pietro had mellowed out considerably. Perhaps it was the fresh, clean blood that erased his former high-strung self. Perhaps it was the realization that living life too quickly was costing him too dearly. Either way, he was now remarkably easygoing. As Todd had observed: "Wow, Pietro, you're totally chill."
He absently fiddled with the party hat in his hands. His mind was replaying the midnight kiss between Wanda and Lance. He granted his approval, even though it felt like a tiny part of him had been lost. A tiny part of their bond had disappeared, just a little bit, to make room for her new bond with Lance. It was all right. What will be, will be.
The whine of a motor reached his ears, and he smiled.
"Motorized!" Johnny crowed proudly as he drove his new wheelchair up the path towards the porch.
"Can you do wheelies yet?" Pietro asked.
"Give me time, brother. Give me time."
Johnny drew to a halt at the base of the steps so that he and Pietro were eye to eye, knee to knee. He didn't need the oxygen tank anymore and the lesions had stopped spreading. In his descent into illness, he had reached a flat plateau to take a rest.
"Hey, Rumpelteazer." Pietro held out his hand.
"Hey, Mungojerrie." Johnny clasped it. "How is everybody?"
"Everybody's great." he rolled his eyes. "Wanda and Lance are still tentatively circling each other. It's cute."
"Ah, young love." Johnny snorted. "That makes me sound really old."
"Geezer."
"Fart."
"Hey, uh," Pietro steered the conversation back towards serious. "How's my dad?"
"He's all right." Johnny shrugged, smiling fondly. "You know. We get by. He's crazy."
"You taking good care of him?"
"Like he was my own flesh and blood."
"Yeah." Pietro fidgeted. "I feel like I should... I don't know. Go see him or something."
"All in good time. It's a new year, anything can happen."
They became quiet, just savoring each other's company. Pietro wondered how much time he had left with Johnny. He hated thinking about it. Johnny gave a long exhale and watched his breath curl visibly on the air, like dragon smoke. Pietro mimicked him, and they silently blew fog at each other, creating little clouds around them so that it was almost like being up in the sky.
"Can I ask you something?" Johnny was suddenly serious.
"Yes," Pietro said quietly.
Leaning forward in the wheelchair, trembling, Johnny bent his head towards Pietro's, indicating for him to do the same. When Pietro leaned forward, Johnny put a hand on the back of his neck and pulled him so close that his burning lips were just a fraction of an inch away from the pale ear, so close that Pietro could feel his hot breath going down into his ear and straight to his brain as Johnny whispered to him in an urgent voice.
"Did you see it, too?"
"See what?" Pietro murmured into Johnny's ear with the same urgency.
"The stars."
Pietro closed his eyes, his whole body going still. He felt weightless.
"When I hit the floor," Johnny continued reverently. "Everything went dark. Then... I saw the stars. It was so beautiful, I— I was just drifting in space. The pain was gone. I could breathe all the way again. I felt like I had just passed through the burning ozone, and now I could move on to a better place than the one I had left behind."
"How do you know I saw it?" Pietro wondered.
"Because I wasn't alone." Johnny pressed the side of his head against Pietro's. "I wasn't alone. Someone was with me. Was it you?"
Pietro rested his hand against the back of Johnny's neck and said, "I think so."
"I knew it." Johnny laughed under his breath. "Even though I couldn't see you, I recognized you. Did you feel the same way?"
"Yes," Pietro remembered. "I felt like... like my whole life, I'd been tied to a stone, but suddenly I was untied and I could use the wings that I'd never known I had."
"And we were going to keep flying, out into the stars, towards..." Johnny's voice grew even softer. "I don't know where we were going."
"Me neither, just that I wanted to go there."
"Why didn't we?"
Johnny pulled back so that he could look into Pietro's eyes. They stared at each other.
"Why didn't we?" Pietro echoed.
The grey sky overhead gave no answer. In the distance, a bird called, a tiny sound almost swallowed up by the heavy, cold air.
"We turned around." Johnny said hoarsely. "We went back through the ozone."
"I guess..." Pietro said faintly. "I guess I wasn't ready to leave yet."
"Me neither. Even though I finally felt..."
"...free."
The word sounded like a bell on the still air.
Johnny smiled painfully and said, "The chains we bear."
Pietro mirrored the smile and said, "We made the right choice." Then he added in a small, frightened voice, "I think."
He wasn't really sure. He remembered the weightlessness, not just of his body but of his soul, as all his earthly cares and worries faded away behind him. No more pain, no more fear. He was flying towards Xibalba, Eden, Valhalla, Infinity— and he turned around. After a lifetime of sorrows, he had finally been released. He'd thrown off the chains and taken flight towards better things. But still... For some reason or another, he had returned, folded his wings, and shackled himself once more. He stared into the sickly pale sky and wondered if he would ever understand himself.
Then it happened. What he'd been waiting for. The sun broke over the horizon and the sky splintered into color and light, the dirty grey clouds suddenly splashed with orange and red and pink. To the east, a ball of fire rising slowly, magnificently, the first seductive curve just emerging into view, beginning that powerful and unstoppable ascent towards the heavens. But even then, upon reaching the zenith, the sun would once again descend into darkness, swallowed up by the earth. In that tomb, the sun knows that it's only a matter of time before it rises again and tastes the heights of the sky. Glory, death, and then... rebirth. The burning light of the sunrise scalded Pietro's night-adjusted eyes, and he shielded them against the heat of this new reality. After a few painful seconds, his vision began to adjust. He lowered his hand and gazed up into the fiery promise of dawn.
"Hey, Pietro," Johnny said quietly. "Are you okay?"
And Pietro said, "I think so."
-
-
-
the end.