11 August 2008 @ 04:31 pm
Title: Side By Side
Author: colorless_landscape
Chapter: One-shot
Word Count: 1140
Prompt: "What the heart has once owned and had, it shall never lose." ~Henry Ward Beecher
Rating: PG? For implied malexmale?
Pairing: hide x Hyde
Warnings: Character death
Genre: angst, RP-based, AU
Synopsis: Sometimes, even in our sadness, we find one tiny glimmer of happiness, if not for ourselves, but for the ones we love.
Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own these boys; I just like to take them out on occasion and play with them.
Author's Note: As always, this is for my beloved Miha ([livejournal.com profile] _defyingtheodds); sort of a companion fic, but can also be read as a stand-alone, to (in sorta chronological order):
Meet the Parents (colorless_landscape)
Saving the Best For Last ([livejournal.com profile] _defyingtheodds)
2:15 ([livejournal.com profile] _defyingtheodds)
Left Behind ([livejournal.com profile] _defyingtheodds)
Standstill ([livejournal.com profile] _defyingtheodds)
My Immortal (colorless_landscape)
Together We Are Strong (colorless_landscape)
Sunset ([livejournal.com profile] _defyingtheodds)
Side By Side (colorless_landscape)
The Letter (colorless_landscape)






The funeral is over now, the casket lowered into the ground, the dirt replaced. And still, a girl, no… a young woman… stands by the twin headstones, tears silently rolling down her cheeks as she reads the letter she’d found the day before, unaware that she is being carefully watched by the few men that remain, waiting for her, ready to give her anything she may need. What they don’t know, can’t know, is that what she needs, they can never give her. It’s too late for that now.

If only she’d been more nosy, like she had been as a child, maybe she would have found the note sooner. If only she had been home more often, she would have seen the signs, and been able to do something. If only…

My dearest Beloved,

Ten years have passed since they took you from me. It seems like forever ago, and yet, only yesterday, since I last saw you, smiling and shaking your head at me, telling me not to worry so much or I’d get old too soon. If only I had known what was going to happen that day, that I’d never see you smile at me again, never hear your teasing words again, I’d have held fast to you that day. I’d have insisted that you not be so stubborn and letting me drive you. Maybe then, things would have been different.

I’ve missed you so much these many years. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of you, wonder what things would be like if you were still here. I catch myself more and more often gazing longingly at the door, willing it to open and to see you walk through it again. What I wouldn’t give to wake up to find that the past ten years have been only a nightmare, to have you laugh at me and call me silly for having believed that anything bad could happen to you. You’re Supah!hide, after all.

That never happens, though. No matter how long I sit and stare at it, the door never opens. And even when it does, it’s not you that walks through it. Invariably, it’s one of our friends, come to check on me… again. I think I must have worried them so many times since that day, because they’ve made a habit of it. It’s seldom the same one twice, and they always make excuses. They were in the neighborhood. They were going shopping and thought they’d see if I needed them to pick anything up while they were out. Always a valid reason, but I know the truth. They just want to make sure I’m doing alright. And I smile at them and thank them and let them believe that I’m fine.

I’m not fine. I haven’t been since the day my world was destroyed. I refused to believe that day that you were gone from me forever. Even when they took me and showed me your lifeless body, my mind refused to accept it. You weren’t dead, you were just asleep, that was all. Why couldn’t they see that? Not even seeing you lying in your coffin could make my mind accept that you were truly gone.

They’ve tried many times over the years to get me to change the message on the answering machine at home. But it still has the greeting you recorded on it. I can’t bear to record over it. Sometimes, I don’t answer the phone, even if I’m sitting right beside it, just so I can hear your voice again. It’s one of the few ways I can still hear you, still let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, it might still be just a really bad joke.

What they don’t know is that even if I could bring myself to change that message, it wouldn’t change anything. Not really. I still have your messages saved in my voicemail. All of them, everything from the random messages asking what’s for dinner because you’re hungry to the ones where you simply called to tell me you loved me.

I’m sure it’s been years since anyone tried to call your old cell phone. If they had, they would have discovered my other secret. I never had it turned off. Even now, I still call it from time to time, when I miss you the most, just to hear that silly greeting you had on your voicemail. It still makes me smile, even through my sadness.

I went back to the doctor today. He confirmed what he suspected a week ago when I went in because I’d been feeling more tired lately than usual. I have cancer. He says it’s a highly aggressive strain, and that it’s already so widespread that there’s nothing that can be done beyond “keeping me comfortable”. I wanted to laugh at him when he said that. I haven’t been comfortable in years. How can I be, when such a big part of me is missing? This pain, the physical pain, it’s nothing compared to the ache I feel every moment spent without you. They predict that I only have, at best, three months to live. That seems like such a short time, and yet it seems like forever until I can be with you again.

Sumire doesn’t know. I know she’d only drop everything to take care of me, and I don’t want to burden her with that. She’s grown into such a wonderful young woman. I know you’d be so very proud of her. She graduated top of her class from medical school, and has a successful practice of her own now. I know that she’d do anything she could to try to stop the inevitable, but I won’t interfere in her life. She has a family of her own to care for now, in addition to her practice. Better that she focus on those things than on something she can’t change, and would only blame herself for in the end.

I don’t want to change it, anyway. Every day between now and the time we are finally reunited, no matter how painful, will be worth it to see your face again, to feel your arms around me again. I know you’ll be waiting for me with a smile and open arms and teasing words, to welcome me home. I love you so much, even still. We’ll be together again soon, my love.


Sumire’s vision blurred as she looked up from the letter to the older tombstone, inscribed with the words “Waiting for an angel…”, then to the newer one, inscribed with “Back where I belong…” Even as two of her “uncles” came to gently urge her away, she reached out a trembling hand to touch first one, and then the other.

“Oh, Papa,” she whispered. “Welcome home.”
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