[[A/N: -sniff- Oh wow. Okay. This is my Tragedy piece for the DP fandom. I had something else in mind…but this worked a lot better. You might be able to guess the character who's talking, but I made it slightly nebulous on purpose, so I won't be surprised if some of you are like "WTF?" Aahhh…I was listening to 'Lonely Day' by System of a Down, which is an awesome song. Perfect for this, in fact. Well, stop reading this and go on! Read! –breaks down crying-
Oh yeah: DISCLAIM'D!!!
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Living
(A Tragic DP One-Shot)
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"You would love this," he whispered to the empty air. "This weather was always your favorite type – with puddles the size of lakes to a small boy or girl and thunder and lightening—"
He gulped and fiddled with the white silken ribbon, which was the only thing that held a modest bouquet of lily flowers together. "And you and I would spend all day shouting at the top of our lungs with laughter, talking about things as trivial as water monsters and super heroes…like they were things that couldn't exist in real life."
There was a pause as the young man sighed.
"I miss that feeling of freedom more than anything else in the world."
He stared at the cold reminder of times long past; the slab of vertical marble - always in white and black, black and white - as the only standing monument to someone worth far more than that.
"It's lonely, you know," he started again, his voice small and straining against the wind howling past his ears. "Without you everything seems like it's only half-existing. I don't know why it would be…and sometimes I feel like maybe it's my imagination. But some days, when I look up and expect you to be sitting next to me, laughing at some bad joke I've just made – then it feels like the world is completely useless without you."
Then the boy laughed a little under his breath. "I sound so mushy right now – you'd probably just chuckle and slap me on the back as if you didn't expect anything else from me."
"I couldn't ever imagine you as a ghost – you had too much spirit to be completely restless… it never seemed like your thing in the first place. And anyway, I've had almost all I can handle in the restless spirit category."
He grinned suddenly and leaned forward, setting down the lily flowers. "I think I finally got what you were always complaining about – the rant you always gave us when you were fed up with people. People don't know the meaning of sacrifice until they've experienced loss…or something like that. I didn't have a clue about what you were talking about, and I remember asking you about it, though you waved it off as nothing every time I asked. I suppose I'll never know now—"
The voice hitched and choked for a moment before it began taking deep breaths. "You really left at the wrong time, you know? Everyone was crying at your funeral – only us two best friends were standing silent. Personally I think it was because we ran out of tears a while back. Your mom and dad were totally in hysterics, and it took all they had not to just hug the casket when it was carried past."
Rain and tears, or tears and rain, fell from his cheeks and he started clenching his fists. Once, twice, three times….
"You called it self-sacrifice. I call it hypocritical bulls--. How could you just go off and do what you did without thinking? I don't care if it helped us, or –sob- god, oh god, why? Why?!"
The young man landed on his knees in front of the grave site hard, the ground wet and soft. He sunk into the pliable earth, his body heaving with dry, angry sobs that sounded like they tore his heart to escape from his lungs.
After a minute or an hour, he didn't keep count, the boy shakily laughed. "It'd be just my luck, you know? You're probably somewhere laughing your butt off at my melodrama – you b-stard," he chuckled, half-sobbing, half-laughing. Sometimes it was hard to tell the difference between the one and the other.
He stood slowly, like he was waking up from a long sleep, and put a hand on the freezing marble stone. Involuntarily, he shivered as the icy wind bit as his hands and face, like a small animal clawing his skin.
"Man, wherever you are, you better be happy."
One last look shot over his shoulder, and the young man walked away, vanishing into the grey of the stormy skies.
Tucker Foley
Hero, Friend, Lover, Son
You Are Always With Us
1988 – 2009
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