The Giver: Hindsight
Title: Hindsight
Fandom: The Giver
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jonas begins to doubt his decision.
Word Count: ~1000
Warnings: Character death
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from this fanwork.
Author's Notes: Written for coltsbane for yuletide 2009.
Colours, music, kittens, love, family, death - all these things had been part of Jonas's life for over five years now. Gabe was now a Six - no, Jonas corrected himself, Gabe was now six. He didn't know any life other than the village in which they now lived. He couldn't remember the community they had escaped and Jonas couldn't bring himself to remind him.
Jonas wanted to forget as well. He was now eighteen, a proper adult now, according to the other adults of the village. Jonas wanted to scream and tell them that he had been an adult for six years already, that he became an adult when he became a Twelve, but he knew that they didn't understand. They lived a simple life here in this village. When Jonas dislocated his shoulder a few years back, he had screamed and screamed and screamed in pain; he realised that real and present pain was far more horrible than remembered pain. That was the first time Jonas had wanted the readily available medicine that he had left behind.
As he adjusted to his new life with the family who had taken him in, Jonas began to realise why those of the past had forsaken so much beauty and pain. His heart broke when he saw Gabe chip a tooth. He was nauseated for days after their food was accidentally left in the sunlight for too long.
None of this would have happened if he hadn't left, Jonas told himself but he gritted his teeth and told himself that it was the right decision. He could hear Gabe laughing as he ran around outside with children of his own age. It was the burbling laugh of youth and of happiness.
Jonas dug his fingernails into his palm. He did this for Gabe. It was all for Gabe. What his father would have done to Gabe gave him no option. He made the right decision. It was definitely the right decision. "Wasn't it?" Jonas whispered to himself as he hung up the laundry.
Jonas stared at the still dripping clothes. This was another one of the menial tasks he had gotten used to over the years. It was one of those tasks like washing the dishes or tidying the garden that has always been done by the Labourers. But in this village, there were no Labourers. Everything was untidy and everybody had the freedom to make their choices, even if it was the wrong choice.
"You look upset. What's wrong?"
Jonas looked up. That was another difference. He still felt uncomfortable whenever somebody asked him about his life or his feelings. There was an echoing voice inside him that told him that it was wrong and rude. "I'm fine," he said and then softened his words with a smile.
The person nodded and walked away.
Jonas was fine. He knew he was. He'd done the right thing and Gabe was happy.
A small voice inside his head questioned whether he was happy. Wasn't he happier when he was an Eleven, even though he didn't know the true meaning of happiness back then? Didn't he doom his community to certain self-destruction when he left? Jonas bit his lip, hard, until blood came. He had always wondered over the past few years what had happened to his community after he had left. What had happened to Asher? To Fiona? To his parents? Jonas loved the childless couple who had taken him in but they weren't his parents.
A sudden thought occurred to him, making him feel sick. He loved his parents, but he had left them all those years ago to fend for themselves under the strain of the new memories that sometimes troubled him even now. What did that make him?
His parents didn't know love. Neither did Asher. Or Fiona when she Released those that she cared for.
He did.
Yet, he had left them all.
With foreboding, Jonas realised that he needed to go back. He needed to see what had happened. He wanted to see his parents, Asher, Fiona and everybody else and ask their forgiveness. And he hoped that they could give him true forgiveness, not just empty apologies.
-***-
Jonas left Gabe behind at the village. He knew he couldn't take the boy with him. Gabe belonged in a world of colour and music; he wouldn't survive in a monochromatic community of sameness.
Jonas didn't know what he would find once he got back. In his heart, he hoped that he would find a prospering community of song and beauty. As he stumbled down the last stretch of road, Jonas noticed with a sinking heart that the road was less well-tended than he remembered. It was still neater than the roads he had gotten used to over the last five years but it was not perfectly paved any more.
As he walked down the familiar childhood road, Jonas stared around open-mouthed in horror. Dimly, at the back of his mind, he realised that his expression could have been closer to terror or abject fear, but he didn't care about precision any more.
All around him, lay ruins. Some were crumbled as if they had lain like that for years. Others seemed freshly blackened. As Jonas walked, he realised that he had done this. He had destroyed them. And now that he was her, now that his own memories of childhood came flooding back, Jonas realised something else.
This was his home. He had always considered this his home. He should have tried to change things from here. With a bitter twist to his lips, Jonas realised what his actions were. They were the hasty actions of a twelve year old boy, not an adult.
He stumbled towards where the Giver lived. As he shoved the door open, he saw the body of the Giver lying stretched out on a couch. "Giver!" Jonas gasped.
To his surprise, the Giver's eyes fluttered open. "Jonas," he said softly. "You're back."
Jonas hurried over to his side. "We made a mistake," Jonas gasped out as he clutched the shoulder of the Giver. "I should have never left."
The Giver looked blankly back at him, not comprehending.
"The world out there," Jonas tried to explain. "It's not better. I know now."
The Giver coughed and Jonas saw a dribble of bright red blood trickle down his chin. "Too late," the Giver told him, his voice raspy. Jonas could feel his heart twist as he saw the tell-tale signs. The Giver was dying.
Jonas looked around at the remains of the community in which he had grown up. He had done this to them. Out of all the memories the Giver should have given him, he should have given him memories of maturity, the memory of weighing up decisions and realising that sometimes beauty needed to be given up for the greater good.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss down on the Giver's forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I apologise."
The Giver gave him a faint smile. "Didn't I tell you, Jonas? No apologies are necessary."
-finis
Fandom: The Giver
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Jonas begins to doubt his decision.
Word Count: ~1000
Warnings: Character death
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement is intended and no money is being made from this fanwork.
Author's Notes: Written for coltsbane for yuletide 2009.
Colours, music, kittens, love, family, death - all these things had been part of Jonas's life for over five years now. Gabe was now a Six - no, Jonas corrected himself, Gabe was now six. He didn't know any life other than the village in which they now lived. He couldn't remember the community they had escaped and Jonas couldn't bring himself to remind him.
Jonas wanted to forget as well. He was now eighteen, a proper adult now, according to the other adults of the village. Jonas wanted to scream and tell them that he had been an adult for six years already, that he became an adult when he became a Twelve, but he knew that they didn't understand. They lived a simple life here in this village. When Jonas dislocated his shoulder a few years back, he had screamed and screamed and screamed in pain; he realised that real and present pain was far more horrible than remembered pain. That was the first time Jonas had wanted the readily available medicine that he had left behind.
As he adjusted to his new life with the family who had taken him in, Jonas began to realise why those of the past had forsaken so much beauty and pain. His heart broke when he saw Gabe chip a tooth. He was nauseated for days after their food was accidentally left in the sunlight for too long.
None of this would have happened if he hadn't left, Jonas told himself but he gritted his teeth and told himself that it was the right decision. He could hear Gabe laughing as he ran around outside with children of his own age. It was the burbling laugh of youth and of happiness.
Jonas dug his fingernails into his palm. He did this for Gabe. It was all for Gabe. What his father would have done to Gabe gave him no option. He made the right decision. It was definitely the right decision. "Wasn't it?" Jonas whispered to himself as he hung up the laundry.
Jonas stared at the still dripping clothes. This was another one of the menial tasks he had gotten used to over the years. It was one of those tasks like washing the dishes or tidying the garden that has always been done by the Labourers. But in this village, there were no Labourers. Everything was untidy and everybody had the freedom to make their choices, even if it was the wrong choice.
"You look upset. What's wrong?"
Jonas looked up. That was another difference. He still felt uncomfortable whenever somebody asked him about his life or his feelings. There was an echoing voice inside him that told him that it was wrong and rude. "I'm fine," he said and then softened his words with a smile.
The person nodded and walked away.
Jonas was fine. He knew he was. He'd done the right thing and Gabe was happy.
A small voice inside his head questioned whether he was happy. Wasn't he happier when he was an Eleven, even though he didn't know the true meaning of happiness back then? Didn't he doom his community to certain self-destruction when he left? Jonas bit his lip, hard, until blood came. He had always wondered over the past few years what had happened to his community after he had left. What had happened to Asher? To Fiona? To his parents? Jonas loved the childless couple who had taken him in but they weren't his parents.
A sudden thought occurred to him, making him feel sick. He loved his parents, but he had left them all those years ago to fend for themselves under the strain of the new memories that sometimes troubled him even now. What did that make him?
His parents didn't know love. Neither did Asher. Or Fiona when she Released those that she cared for.
He did.
Yet, he had left them all.
With foreboding, Jonas realised that he needed to go back. He needed to see what had happened. He wanted to see his parents, Asher, Fiona and everybody else and ask their forgiveness. And he hoped that they could give him true forgiveness, not just empty apologies.
-***-
Jonas left Gabe behind at the village. He knew he couldn't take the boy with him. Gabe belonged in a world of colour and music; he wouldn't survive in a monochromatic community of sameness.
Jonas didn't know what he would find once he got back. In his heart, he hoped that he would find a prospering community of song and beauty. As he stumbled down the last stretch of road, Jonas noticed with a sinking heart that the road was less well-tended than he remembered. It was still neater than the roads he had gotten used to over the last five years but it was not perfectly paved any more.
As he walked down the familiar childhood road, Jonas stared around open-mouthed in horror. Dimly, at the back of his mind, he realised that his expression could have been closer to terror or abject fear, but he didn't care about precision any more.
All around him, lay ruins. Some were crumbled as if they had lain like that for years. Others seemed freshly blackened. As Jonas walked, he realised that he had done this. He had destroyed them. And now that he was her, now that his own memories of childhood came flooding back, Jonas realised something else.
This was his home. He had always considered this his home. He should have tried to change things from here. With a bitter twist to his lips, Jonas realised what his actions were. They were the hasty actions of a twelve year old boy, not an adult.
He stumbled towards where the Giver lived. As he shoved the door open, he saw the body of the Giver lying stretched out on a couch. "Giver!" Jonas gasped.
To his surprise, the Giver's eyes fluttered open. "Jonas," he said softly. "You're back."
Jonas hurried over to his side. "We made a mistake," Jonas gasped out as he clutched the shoulder of the Giver. "I should have never left."
The Giver looked blankly back at him, not comprehending.
"The world out there," Jonas tried to explain. "It's not better. I know now."
The Giver coughed and Jonas saw a dribble of bright red blood trickle down his chin. "Too late," the Giver told him, his voice raspy. Jonas could feel his heart twist as he saw the tell-tale signs. The Giver was dying.
Jonas looked around at the remains of the community in which he had grown up. He had done this to them. Out of all the memories the Giver should have given him, he should have given him memories of maturity, the memory of weighing up decisions and realising that sometimes beauty needed to be given up for the greater good.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss down on the Giver's forehead. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I apologise."
The Giver gave him a faint smile. "Didn't I tell you, Jonas? No apologies are necessary."
-finis