Alone, all alone Nobody, but nobody can make it out here alone
Title: Breaking Bridges
Author: Deathless Juliet
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: X
Pairing/Characters: Subaru, Kamui
Disclaimer: X belongs to its brilliant creators, CLAMP.
Summary: All alone on an unstable night.
Warnings: Character Death.
For Star-Crossed
Side Story to The Darkest of Your Days
Special thanks to Morella, who inspired me to continue on with that verse; though I doubt I could do anymore ficlets to it, after this one.
“Alone, all alone Nobody, but nobody can make it out here alone” -Maya Angelou
“The grave is but a covered bridge leading from light to light, through a brief darkness!” -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Breaking Bridges
“How have you been?” Kamui asks, settling gingerly into the visitor armchairs. Subaru looks him up and down, scrutinizing his condition. He’s so painfully thin, wasted now, frail, breakable. They had had so much time. He gives Subaru a wan smile and picks ashamedly at the armrest.
“I’ve been.” Subaru half-smiles back at him, expression containing no real joy. He lives alone, sleeps alone, eats occasionally and avoids daylight, blackout curtains tacked to his window to keep it out. Sunshine’s unnecessary; he works the graveyard shift now.
Sometimes, he sits in the dark and stares and tries to breathe loudly enough to know he’s still alive.
“...It’s day by day.” Kamui says after thinking of his response. “They like to tell me that, anyways. And here I thought I wouldn’t have any more battles to fight.”
Said innocently, but this statement sets off warning bells in Subaru’s head when he remembered just how delicate the Saviour’s mindframe was, that anything could tip the balance into madness, into personal hell. But it was too late, he thinks desperately, too late as Kamui’s vision turns inward, sucking his soul back to remember those terrible, godforsaken days.
“Kamui? Stay with me, stay here.” Subaru asks, worried and cautious. A clatter as he knocks over his chair in his hurry to stand. “Kamui!”
“Oh God.” The boy murmurs, eyes wide, blank, horrified at the scenes playing over for him. His hands fly up to clutch his hair tightly, his fists twisting the strands. Sobs quietly wrack his entire body, and eventually he can’t breathe, just cries and gasps until he runs out of sustainable air, fainting as he slumps over in his seat.
Subaru lays him out on a couch and finds a medical blanket nearby to spread over his friend. He doesn’t bother to alert the nurses before he heads out the psych ward exit, the guards locking the doors heavily, definitely behind him. He feels immersed in lake water, alienated, now that his last connection to this world is breaking, lost to despair.
He wanders around the closed city until the late stretch of night, the coldest, darkest time of any day, in any world. Passing by empty alleyways and hollow storefronts, he shifts his gaze grimly ahead, footstep by footstep. He pauses long enough to lean against a building and smoke a cigarette, gazing up at the lit tower in the distance. Dim streetlights circle and dance in the puddles left from recent rain, gathered up in the shallow passageways of the city. His visible breath and the floating smoke mingle in the cold air as he exhales. He thinks about a question he had once heard long ago.
“Oh, I never used to hate Tokyo.” He answers sadly, stubbing out the filter against the brick beside him, dropping it to the ground. “Not before you.” And continues on his way.
He struggles. He's tired, so tired, completely hopeless against this night, this overwhelming darkness. How can he fight still? For what purpose, what war? What end?
At long last, he returns to Rainbow Bridge, newly reconstructed after 10 long months. He can't believe that he has made it this long. There are no cars at this dead time of night, no one outside. He leans off of it, staring down into the black abyss of deep, deathly cold water. He feels a movement against his hands and glances down, surprised, realization dawning upon him. He smiles, a real one, and looks up at the night sky, the clouds having cleared, moon reflected in the horizon of the bay; the only light haunting out here on the bridge.
The railing, although it should be safe, should be secure, loosens slightly as he rests his weight on it. Finally, he feels the ties around him, these chains of grief and loss that bind him to the outer world fall slack, and he doesn't fight when the railing gives out beneath him, as he
falls
falls
falls
. . . . . . . . . . . into that cold water
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . drowning into Seishirou
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and memory
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .and finally
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . at last
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . feels peace.
Comments? This is my first side story for Star-Crossed, and I would like to see how it went. :)
Author: Deathless Juliet
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: X
Pairing/Characters: Subaru, Kamui
Disclaimer: X belongs to its brilliant creators, CLAMP.
Summary: All alone on an unstable night.
Warnings: Character Death.
For Star-Crossed
Side Story to The Darkest of Your Days
Special thanks to Morella, who inspired me to continue on with that verse; though I doubt I could do anymore ficlets to it, after this one.
“Alone, all alone Nobody, but nobody can make it out here alone” -Maya Angelou
“The grave is but a covered bridge leading from light to light, through a brief darkness!” -Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Breaking Bridges
“How have you been?” Kamui asks, settling gingerly into the visitor armchairs. Subaru looks him up and down, scrutinizing his condition. He’s so painfully thin, wasted now, frail, breakable. They had had so much time. He gives Subaru a wan smile and picks ashamedly at the armrest.
“I’ve been.” Subaru half-smiles back at him, expression containing no real joy. He lives alone, sleeps alone, eats occasionally and avoids daylight, blackout curtains tacked to his window to keep it out. Sunshine’s unnecessary; he works the graveyard shift now.
Sometimes, he sits in the dark and stares and tries to breathe loudly enough to know he’s still alive.
“...It’s day by day.” Kamui says after thinking of his response. “They like to tell me that, anyways. And here I thought I wouldn’t have any more battles to fight.”
Said innocently, but this statement sets off warning bells in Subaru’s head when he remembered just how delicate the Saviour’s mindframe was, that anything could tip the balance into madness, into personal hell. But it was too late, he thinks desperately, too late as Kamui’s vision turns inward, sucking his soul back to remember those terrible, godforsaken days.
“Kamui? Stay with me, stay here.” Subaru asks, worried and cautious. A clatter as he knocks over his chair in his hurry to stand. “Kamui!”
“Oh God.” The boy murmurs, eyes wide, blank, horrified at the scenes playing over for him. His hands fly up to clutch his hair tightly, his fists twisting the strands. Sobs quietly wrack his entire body, and eventually he can’t breathe, just cries and gasps until he runs out of sustainable air, fainting as he slumps over in his seat.
Subaru lays him out on a couch and finds a medical blanket nearby to spread over his friend. He doesn’t bother to alert the nurses before he heads out the psych ward exit, the guards locking the doors heavily, definitely behind him. He feels immersed in lake water, alienated, now that his last connection to this world is breaking, lost to despair.
He wanders around the closed city until the late stretch of night, the coldest, darkest time of any day, in any world. Passing by empty alleyways and hollow storefronts, he shifts his gaze grimly ahead, footstep by footstep. He pauses long enough to lean against a building and smoke a cigarette, gazing up at the lit tower in the distance. Dim streetlights circle and dance in the puddles left from recent rain, gathered up in the shallow passageways of the city. His visible breath and the floating smoke mingle in the cold air as he exhales. He thinks about a question he had once heard long ago.
“Oh, I never used to hate Tokyo.” He answers sadly, stubbing out the filter against the brick beside him, dropping it to the ground. “Not before you.” And continues on his way.
He struggles. He's tired, so tired, completely hopeless against this night, this overwhelming darkness. How can he fight still? For what purpose, what war? What end?
At long last, he returns to Rainbow Bridge, newly reconstructed after 10 long months. He can't believe that he has made it this long. There are no cars at this dead time of night, no one outside. He leans off of it, staring down into the black abyss of deep, deathly cold water. He feels a movement against his hands and glances down, surprised, realization dawning upon him. He smiles, a real one, and looks up at the night sky, the clouds having cleared, moon reflected in the horizon of the bay; the only light haunting out here on the bridge.
The railing, although it should be safe, should be secure, loosens slightly as he rests his weight on it. Finally, he feels the ties around him, these chains of grief and loss that bind him to the outer world fall slack, and he doesn't fight when the railing gives out beneath him, as he
falls
falls
falls
. . . . . . . . . . . into that cold water
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . drowning into Seishirou
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and memory
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .and finally
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . at last
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . feels peace.
Comments? This is my first side story for Star-Crossed, and I would like to see how it went. :)