Heaven Help Us [Songfic. OCxOC.]
Title: Heaven Help Us [Songfic]
Author: Cnopbl (posted from writing LJ)
Pairing/band: OCxOC (FolantxGhislain)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A young boy gets into a car crash and says his final goodbyes to his one true love.
Warnings: Character death. Homosexual themes.
Notes: Songfic via Heaven Hep Us by My Chemical Romance. Wrote it during school. Folant = foh-LAWNt, Ghislain = giss-LAIN.
-----
"Hear the sound.
The angels come screaming down,"
The screeches, a significant yet familiar howling, of a million individuals pierced my ears like wailing sirens. The wings of the banter danced beneath my frozen eyelids. They were defined as angels in my mind, yet they were not pure. They were screaming, fluttering, demon-esque angels. Angels from Hell.
"Your voice.
I hear you've been bleeding."
My own voice rang through my ears, though it was thick and hard to decipher. I was asking where I was; that much was clear. My mind was clogged. I couldn't think at all, much less coherent thoughts. I could feel my arm, shaky yet knowing it's purpose, reaching up to greet my hairline. My fingers ran along the thick strip of wet blood. The line underneath was not smooth as expected. It was jagged and rough, only signifying that there was obvious hidden damage.
"Make your choice.
They say you've been pleading;"
A few shaky breaths released themselves from behind my lips. I could feel tears well behind my eyes, though they were shut tight. the look on my face was definitely a grimace, that I knew for sure. It was time for me to make my decision. I could scrap through my prolonged breath and seemingly endless pain, and try to live, or I could stop breathing and go. My decision would be final. DId I want to live, or did I want to die?
"Someone save us!"
The words stuck to my pleading ears as I sucked in another breath. It stung my throat and made my stomach twinge. My brain burned with a strong realization. I needed help, I realized. I needed someone to save my life. I had done this to myself, and it would take a lot to get me out.
"Heaven, help us now,
come crashing down,"
I could feel my body begin to shake in the sense that made me feel like a cell phone on vibrate. I was crashing. My eyelids fluttered to keep the tightness of them to each other intact. I could feel the blood from my wound dribble down in separate rivers; one to greet my earlobe, the other down my nose. Another breath was taken in. This one was shaky with pain and regret.
"We'll hear the sound,
as you're falling down."
A small moan escaped my lips, echoing in a feeling of lonesome in my eardrums. There would be no point in opening my eyes, for behind the seas of celery green would be nothing but clouds or haze. The concussion was making my vision fuzzy, either that or the loss of blood.
Somebody was calling my name. I couldn't tell who, exactly, though it was a clearly masculine voice. My nose gave a twitch, and I attempted to open my eyes. To such was not my avail as it hurt too much to attempt. I could hear it echoing in my ears.
Folant... Folant...
"I'm at this old hotel,
But can't tell if I've been
screaming or sleeping or
waiting for the man to call.
And maybe all of the above."
It occurred to me suddenly that, through my clouded mind and wound-shut eyes, that I did not know of my whereabouts. I also could not tell if I was sleeping or not. This scenario could be a dream, for all I knew, as it sure felt as if it were. It could be something far worse. The mental hallucination had been telling me otherwise. The moans erupted into screams. I needed to give up. The world didn't deserve a creature as awful as me.
"But mostly I've been sprawled
on these cathedral steps, while
spitting out the blood
and screaming;
'Someone save us!'"
I allowed myself a few more shaky breaths, ones that I'd surely hope would be my last. I could feel blood rush to my teeth, pushing against the structures as if violent tidal waves. Reluctantly, I spit it out, feeling the taste on my lips as it splashed against something. This was horrible. Wherever my help was, it had better hurry. I was clinging to life.
It was Ghislain's voice.
The one calling me. I could recognize it now, after the endless time it had been stinging my brain. He had been calling me, and he had sounded so pained that I could hardly stand it. A tear slipped down my cheek as I whispered his name. A happy gasp hit my disallowing eardrums. It was Ghislain.
"And would you pray for me?
Or make a saint of me?
And would you lay for me?
Or make a saint of?"
He was whispering to me now as I continued to inhale. He sounded so distant, so different, that it was hard to understand. It was hard to believe that this really was my Ghislain.
I needed him. I knew that with the soul of the entire being that he was, he was praying for me. Praying that I'd stay alive. He was wrong. I knew that I was going to die, for it was intentioned --- more like destined --- in this catastrophe. Ghislain was a good person. He didn't need me, a horrible human being, to balance him out.
"Cause I'll give you all the nails you need.
Cover me in gasoline.
Wipe away those tears of blood again."
I could feel his fingers now, running underneath my eyelid gently. He astonished gasps led to my realization that I had been crying the red substance that seemed to have replaced all of my bodily fluids; blood. This was horrible. I needed to tell him to end this.
"Ghislain." Though my voice quivered, it remained firm.
"Folant, you can hear me?" He was gentle.
"I'm going to stop breathing now, okay?"
Here, he wrapped his arms around my neck. Hot tears slipped, and ran into my pained neck. I realized was I was doing, for we were all each other had left, but I knew I had to do this.
""Folant, no," His voice shook violently. "I can't lose you! You're the only one I have left! P-Please, no!"
"Listen," I replied, "I need to do this. I don't deserve to live. You don't deserve me. The world doesn't deserve something as awful as me." I in took my final breath,
"You're lying!" He sputtered, now crying. I disregarded what he had said, exhaling for the last time. The end. The overwhelming feeling of nausea overtook me, and the last beat of my heart was accompanied by Ghislain's sobs. He lay on top of me as my body went cold.
"And the punchline to the joke is asking;
Someone save us!
Heaven, help us now.
Come crashing down.
We'll hear the sound,
As you fall.
And would you pray for me?
(You don't know a thing about my sins
How the misery begins)
Or make a saint of me?
(You don't know
So I'm burning, I'm burning)
And will you lay for me?
(You don't know a thing about my sins
How the misery begins)
Or make a saint?
(You don't know
Cause I'm burning, I'm burning)
Cause I'll give you all the nails you need,
(I'm burning, I'm burning again)
Cover me in gasoline again."
Author: Cnopbl (posted from writing LJ)
Pairing/band: OCxOC (FolantxGhislain)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: A young boy gets into a car crash and says his final goodbyes to his one true love.
Warnings: Character death. Homosexual themes.
Notes: Songfic via Heaven Hep Us by My Chemical Romance. Wrote it during school. Folant = foh-LAWNt, Ghislain = giss-LAIN.
-----
"Hear the sound.
The angels come screaming down,"
The screeches, a significant yet familiar howling, of a million individuals pierced my ears like wailing sirens. The wings of the banter danced beneath my frozen eyelids. They were defined as angels in my mind, yet they were not pure. They were screaming, fluttering, demon-esque angels. Angels from Hell.
"Your voice.
I hear you've been bleeding."
My own voice rang through my ears, though it was thick and hard to decipher. I was asking where I was; that much was clear. My mind was clogged. I couldn't think at all, much less coherent thoughts. I could feel my arm, shaky yet knowing it's purpose, reaching up to greet my hairline. My fingers ran along the thick strip of wet blood. The line underneath was not smooth as expected. It was jagged and rough, only signifying that there was obvious hidden damage.
"Make your choice.
They say you've been pleading;"
A few shaky breaths released themselves from behind my lips. I could feel tears well behind my eyes, though they were shut tight. the look on my face was definitely a grimace, that I knew for sure. It was time for me to make my decision. I could scrap through my prolonged breath and seemingly endless pain, and try to live, or I could stop breathing and go. My decision would be final. DId I want to live, or did I want to die?
"Someone save us!"
The words stuck to my pleading ears as I sucked in another breath. It stung my throat and made my stomach twinge. My brain burned with a strong realization. I needed help, I realized. I needed someone to save my life. I had done this to myself, and it would take a lot to get me out.
"Heaven, help us now,
come crashing down,"
I could feel my body begin to shake in the sense that made me feel like a cell phone on vibrate. I was crashing. My eyelids fluttered to keep the tightness of them to each other intact. I could feel the blood from my wound dribble down in separate rivers; one to greet my earlobe, the other down my nose. Another breath was taken in. This one was shaky with pain and regret.
"We'll hear the sound,
as you're falling down."
A small moan escaped my lips, echoing in a feeling of lonesome in my eardrums. There would be no point in opening my eyes, for behind the seas of celery green would be nothing but clouds or haze. The concussion was making my vision fuzzy, either that or the loss of blood.
Somebody was calling my name. I couldn't tell who, exactly, though it was a clearly masculine voice. My nose gave a twitch, and I attempted to open my eyes. To such was not my avail as it hurt too much to attempt. I could hear it echoing in my ears.
Folant... Folant...
"I'm at this old hotel,
But can't tell if I've been
screaming or sleeping or
waiting for the man to call.
And maybe all of the above."
It occurred to me suddenly that, through my clouded mind and wound-shut eyes, that I did not know of my whereabouts. I also could not tell if I was sleeping or not. This scenario could be a dream, for all I knew, as it sure felt as if it were. It could be something far worse. The mental hallucination had been telling me otherwise. The moans erupted into screams. I needed to give up. The world didn't deserve a creature as awful as me.
"But mostly I've been sprawled
on these cathedral steps, while
spitting out the blood
and screaming;
'Someone save us!'"
I allowed myself a few more shaky breaths, ones that I'd surely hope would be my last. I could feel blood rush to my teeth, pushing against the structures as if violent tidal waves. Reluctantly, I spit it out, feeling the taste on my lips as it splashed against something. This was horrible. Wherever my help was, it had better hurry. I was clinging to life.
It was Ghislain's voice.
The one calling me. I could recognize it now, after the endless time it had been stinging my brain. He had been calling me, and he had sounded so pained that I could hardly stand it. A tear slipped down my cheek as I whispered his name. A happy gasp hit my disallowing eardrums. It was Ghislain.
"And would you pray for me?
Or make a saint of me?
And would you lay for me?
Or make a saint of?"
He was whispering to me now as I continued to inhale. He sounded so distant, so different, that it was hard to understand. It was hard to believe that this really was my Ghislain.
I needed him. I knew that with the soul of the entire being that he was, he was praying for me. Praying that I'd stay alive. He was wrong. I knew that I was going to die, for it was intentioned --- more like destined --- in this catastrophe. Ghislain was a good person. He didn't need me, a horrible human being, to balance him out.
"Cause I'll give you all the nails you need.
Cover me in gasoline.
Wipe away those tears of blood again."
I could feel his fingers now, running underneath my eyelid gently. He astonished gasps led to my realization that I had been crying the red substance that seemed to have replaced all of my bodily fluids; blood. This was horrible. I needed to tell him to end this.
"Ghislain." Though my voice quivered, it remained firm.
"Folant, you can hear me?" He was gentle.
"I'm going to stop breathing now, okay?"
Here, he wrapped his arms around my neck. Hot tears slipped, and ran into my pained neck. I realized was I was doing, for we were all each other had left, but I knew I had to do this.
""Folant, no," His voice shook violently. "I can't lose you! You're the only one I have left! P-Please, no!"
"Listen," I replied, "I need to do this. I don't deserve to live. You don't deserve me. The world doesn't deserve something as awful as me." I in took my final breath,
"You're lying!" He sputtered, now crying. I disregarded what he had said, exhaling for the last time. The end. The overwhelming feeling of nausea overtook me, and the last beat of my heart was accompanied by Ghislain's sobs. He lay on top of me as my body went cold.
"And the punchline to the joke is asking;
Someone save us!
Heaven, help us now.
Come crashing down.
We'll hear the sound,
As you fall.
And would you pray for me?
(You don't know a thing about my sins
How the misery begins)
Or make a saint of me?
(You don't know
So I'm burning, I'm burning)
And will you lay for me?
(You don't know a thing about my sins
How the misery begins)
Or make a saint?
(You don't know
Cause I'm burning, I'm burning)
Cause I'll give you all the nails you need,
(I'm burning, I'm burning again)
Cover me in gasoline again."