Stop Breathing [PG13]
Title: Stop Breathing
Author: Alex Sorensen (ilytheira )
Summary: And sometimes, David wishes he was the one who stopped breathing instead.
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Nope, they’re still not mine-I’m still waiting for that reenactment! =] LOL. I don’t own “If You Wanna, I Might” by Hellogoodbye or “Your Guardian Angel” by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.
Author’s Note: Two responses to supermeklot’s dare. Well, one and an extra since “Your Guardian Angel” wasn’t really part of the song lyrics she listed. LOL. I don’t know why, but somehow, it ended up getting so much more angstier than intended, and for that, I apologize; I wanted to try my hand at a deeper sort of Mavid angst, and here’s what came out of it. And it’s total AU, too. Total AU.
I. - I Could Give Up If You Want Me To
“You’re shitting me.”
“David, don’t be like this.”
“No, Michael, you don’t be like this. You’re fucking shitting me!”
“What, do you think this is just a joke, then?”
“Do you want to know what I think is a joke? I think the whole ‘I’d do anything just to be with you’ bullshit is just a joke.”
“David Roland Cook, you listen to me. I was not joking around when I said I’d do anything to be with you-“
“Tell me how it’s going to happen then. You’re going to leave your pregnant wife for me, and then what? Make me seem like a home-wrecker? You’re going to end up taking care of the kid, anyway, so obviously, there’s no point in leaving.”
“Nobody is calling you a home-wrecker, David-“
“-oh, well, you know, not yet-“
“-and what do you mean, ‘there’s no point in leaving’? I’ve got every right to decide whether or not I want any relationship of mine to end.”
“So you’re going to end this one, too, right?”
“Don’t -just-just stop. Stop with that tone, David. I hate it when you use that tone.”
“Who are you, my mother?”
“No. And if you’d hear me out-“
“-I think I’ve heard everything I wanted to know.”
“We’ve made it through nearly everything, David; why are you choosing now, of all times, to give up?”
“I’m not the one giving up on us, Michael. I think you are.”
“No. I was never ready to give up on us, David. I’ve been fighting for us all this time.”
“Have you really?”
“Will you just shut up and listen to me? Listen to me, David. I’ve been fighting as hard as I can for as long we’ve been together. I’ve been fighting, but if I’m going to be fighting for someone who’s going to give up just because another obstacle’s been put on the road, just because this one looks harder than the last, then you tell me, David. What’s the pointing in fighting for someone who isn’t going to be there?”
“You think I’m not going to be there? You think I don’t want you to fight for us? Because, damn it all, Michael Lee Johns, I’m fighting for you to fight for us. I want you to fight for us. But how can I still say that you’re fighting for us when you’re going to have a baby with Stacey? Don’t you understand that a child solidifies your marriage? If you leave her for me at any stage from now on, it’s going to be-“
“-it’s going to be what, David? It’s going to be wrong? It’s going to be so wrong that I left her for someone that I thought I loved so much more?”
“I never said-wait, what? What did you say?”
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear me, David. You heard me.”
“Y-you ‘thought’? What do you mean, you ‘thought’ you loved so much more?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I mean. I ‘thought’ I loved you so much more. But that was before I realized you’ve given up on us already.”
“I have not given up on us.”
“Then why won’t you let me prove to you that I’m still in this for us?”
“The baby-“
“Just tell me the truth, David. Are we still fighting for us?”
“I don’t know. Are you still fighting for us?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am, David. I am still fighting for us. But, damn it all, if you want me to give up, then I’ll do it. If you want me to throw everything away and give it all up, I’ll do it. If you ask me to stop breathing, I’ll do it, I love y-“
“Don’t. Please. J -just don’t.”
“...I think you’ve just asked me to stop breathing.”
“Michael, no -Michael, wait- no, that’s not what I-“
Click.
II. - And I Know I’ll Be Okay Though My Skies are Turning Gray
David steps out of his car and eyes his surroundings. It is a quiet day, a peaceful day -a day he knows Michael would have loved. Walking through the blades of grass around him, he could walk through here with his eyes closed and his feet would stop him where he needs to stop. He’s been going to this place every day, three hundred sixty-five days a year for nearly two years now, and every time he’s here, the emotions that he believes he’s kept so tightly under wraps for so long surfaces and he’s lost in his tears again.
It really didn’t have to end like that, in the furious exchange of vulgarities and accusations of broken promises like that. But he didn’t know how he was supposed to take it. He never really did get a chance to find out how Michael expected him to take such news. The phone call could have been pleasantries exchanged casually with David responding with only slight surprise and somewhat false happiness for Michael. The phone call could have been so different that it didn’t have to end up like this.
But it did. And two years later, David still thinks that it’s his fault. People have written so many little things about it, two years’ worth of information that David still has no idea how they get their hands on; two years’ worth of never-ending mourning that seems to have affected the whole of the world, because, really, he was a man who could do that with his voice. He was the sort of man who could move someone to tears with his voice with one song, and then make them smile as though it was really going to be all right with the next. That was his ability, and his alone, and the world was existing for the better.
And then comes along the phone call, and suddenly, it all spirals down from there. It was the most common escape that David found to be the most painful. Driving under the influence. David hated himself and killed himself night and day after he found out. David wanted to cry and shout and throw and rip everything apart when he found out, but when he realized that there was no point, all of the energy was ripped away from him and he found himself slumping down to the floor of his apartment, holding on to the fragmented pieces of himself like a child would with its broken toys.
“I think you’ve just asked me to stop breathing.”
Sympathy was there all around, but he couldn’t take it. He didn’t want to take it, he didn’t deserve any of it, because when he went around his home, all he could think about was how all of this was his fault. How he could’ve prevented it by taking the news in a slightly better way than he did. How he could’ve still been there, how they could’ve still been there, sitting together-
How he could’ve still seen his child being born, could’ve been there for her first words-
But he wasn’t there, and it was all his fault. He thrashed around at night, waking up the next morning with sweat dripping unceasingly down his face, because the guilt wouldn’t escape him. They could all tell him it wasn’t his fault, they could all tell him that these things happened for a reason-but no reason in the world could possibly explain why his death came at such a tender time.
He didn’t understand it, and he doesn’t think he ever will, because even now, the pain in his heart isn’t going away. As he stares down at Michael Lee Johns, October 29, 1978 - November 3, 2010, there is nothing stopping the flood of tears coming down from his eyes.
David knows he deserves all this hurt.
“I think you’ve just asked me to stop breathing.”
And sometimes, David wishes he was the one who stopped breathing instead.
“Michael-“
He can’t speak. His throat has gone dry and the words are too hard to form; they are all just incoherent little nothings that are coming to his brain from nowhere and everywhere.
“Michael-“
He cannot find the words to say, because he thinks he’s said every form of sorry that ever existed.
“I-“
What else was there to say? I love you? I miss you? I shouldn’t have said anything about it? I should’ve been happy for you?
“Michael, I-“
And he stops there, because he knows that nothing in the world he could ever say would make Michael forgive him.
It’s taken so much time just to gather the strength to be able to say “Michael’s gone,” and with a pain like this driving daggers through his heart over and over again, David doesn’t think he’ll make it to the next day-
-but he’s going to keep trying, because he knows he owes Michael that much, and more.
Michael, I-
And it is as though the wind is caressing him, as though it is speaking to him.
I know, David.
I know.
Author: Alex Sorensen (ilytheira )
Summary: And sometimes, David wishes he was the one who stopped breathing instead.
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: Nope, they’re still not mine-I’m still waiting for that reenactment! =] LOL. I don’t own “If You Wanna, I Might” by Hellogoodbye or “Your Guardian Angel” by The Red Jumpsuit Apparatus.
Author’s Note: Two responses to supermeklot’s dare. Well, one and an extra since “Your Guardian Angel” wasn’t really part of the song lyrics she listed. LOL. I don’t know why, but somehow, it ended up getting so much more angstier than intended, and for that, I apologize; I wanted to try my hand at a deeper sort of Mavid angst, and here’s what came out of it. And it’s total AU, too. Total AU.
I. - I Could Give Up If You Want Me To
“You’re shitting me.”
“David, don’t be like this.”
“No, Michael, you don’t be like this. You’re fucking shitting me!”
“What, do you think this is just a joke, then?”
“Do you want to know what I think is a joke? I think the whole ‘I’d do anything just to be with you’ bullshit is just a joke.”
“David Roland Cook, you listen to me. I was not joking around when I said I’d do anything to be with you-“
“Tell me how it’s going to happen then. You’re going to leave your pregnant wife for me, and then what? Make me seem like a home-wrecker? You’re going to end up taking care of the kid, anyway, so obviously, there’s no point in leaving.”
“Nobody is calling you a home-wrecker, David-“
“-oh, well, you know, not yet-“
“-and what do you mean, ‘there’s no point in leaving’? I’ve got every right to decide whether or not I want any relationship of mine to end.”
“So you’re going to end this one, too, right?”
“Don’t -just-just stop. Stop with that tone, David. I hate it when you use that tone.”
“Who are you, my mother?”
“No. And if you’d hear me out-“
“-I think I’ve heard everything I wanted to know.”
“We’ve made it through nearly everything, David; why are you choosing now, of all times, to give up?”
“I’m not the one giving up on us, Michael. I think you are.”
“No. I was never ready to give up on us, David. I’ve been fighting for us all this time.”
“Have you really?”
“Will you just shut up and listen to me? Listen to me, David. I’ve been fighting as hard as I can for as long we’ve been together. I’ve been fighting, but if I’m going to be fighting for someone who’s going to give up just because another obstacle’s been put on the road, just because this one looks harder than the last, then you tell me, David. What’s the pointing in fighting for someone who isn’t going to be there?”
“You think I’m not going to be there? You think I don’t want you to fight for us? Because, damn it all, Michael Lee Johns, I’m fighting for you to fight for us. I want you to fight for us. But how can I still say that you’re fighting for us when you’re going to have a baby with Stacey? Don’t you understand that a child solidifies your marriage? If you leave her for me at any stage from now on, it’s going to be-“
“-it’s going to be what, David? It’s going to be wrong? It’s going to be so wrong that I left her for someone that I thought I loved so much more?”
“I never said-wait, what? What did you say?”
“Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear me, David. You heard me.”
“Y-you ‘thought’? What do you mean, you ‘thought’ you loved so much more?”
“Yeah. That’s exactly what I mean. I ‘thought’ I loved you so much more. But that was before I realized you’ve given up on us already.”
“I have not given up on us.”
“Then why won’t you let me prove to you that I’m still in this for us?”
“The baby-“
“Just tell me the truth, David. Are we still fighting for us?”
“I don’t know. Are you still fighting for us?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I am, David. I am still fighting for us. But, damn it all, if you want me to give up, then I’ll do it. If you want me to throw everything away and give it all up, I’ll do it. If you ask me to stop breathing, I’ll do it, I love y-“
“Don’t. Please. J -just don’t.”
“...I think you’ve just asked me to stop breathing.”
“Michael, no -Michael, wait- no, that’s not what I-“
Click.
II. - And I Know I’ll Be Okay Though My Skies are Turning Gray
David steps out of his car and eyes his surroundings. It is a quiet day, a peaceful day -a day he knows Michael would have loved. Walking through the blades of grass around him, he could walk through here with his eyes closed and his feet would stop him where he needs to stop. He’s been going to this place every day, three hundred sixty-five days a year for nearly two years now, and every time he’s here, the emotions that he believes he’s kept so tightly under wraps for so long surfaces and he’s lost in his tears again.
It really didn’t have to end like that, in the furious exchange of vulgarities and accusations of broken promises like that. But he didn’t know how he was supposed to take it. He never really did get a chance to find out how Michael expected him to take such news. The phone call could have been pleasantries exchanged casually with David responding with only slight surprise and somewhat false happiness for Michael. The phone call could have been so different that it didn’t have to end up like this.
But it did. And two years later, David still thinks that it’s his fault. People have written so many little things about it, two years’ worth of information that David still has no idea how they get their hands on; two years’ worth of never-ending mourning that seems to have affected the whole of the world, because, really, he was a man who could do that with his voice. He was the sort of man who could move someone to tears with his voice with one song, and then make them smile as though it was really going to be all right with the next. That was his ability, and his alone, and the world was existing for the better.
And then comes along the phone call, and suddenly, it all spirals down from there. It was the most common escape that David found to be the most painful. Driving under the influence. David hated himself and killed himself night and day after he found out. David wanted to cry and shout and throw and rip everything apart when he found out, but when he realized that there was no point, all of the energy was ripped away from him and he found himself slumping down to the floor of his apartment, holding on to the fragmented pieces of himself like a child would with its broken toys.
“I think you’ve just asked me to stop breathing.”
Sympathy was there all around, but he couldn’t take it. He didn’t want to take it, he didn’t deserve any of it, because when he went around his home, all he could think about was how all of this was his fault. How he could’ve prevented it by taking the news in a slightly better way than he did. How he could’ve still been there, how they could’ve still been there, sitting together-
How he could’ve still seen his child being born, could’ve been there for her first words-
But he wasn’t there, and it was all his fault. He thrashed around at night, waking up the next morning with sweat dripping unceasingly down his face, because the guilt wouldn’t escape him. They could all tell him it wasn’t his fault, they could all tell him that these things happened for a reason-but no reason in the world could possibly explain why his death came at such a tender time.
He didn’t understand it, and he doesn’t think he ever will, because even now, the pain in his heart isn’t going away. As he stares down at Michael Lee Johns, October 29, 1978 - November 3, 2010, there is nothing stopping the flood of tears coming down from his eyes.
David knows he deserves all this hurt.
“I think you’ve just asked me to stop breathing.”
And sometimes, David wishes he was the one who stopped breathing instead.
“Michael-“
He can’t speak. His throat has gone dry and the words are too hard to form; they are all just incoherent little nothings that are coming to his brain from nowhere and everywhere.
“Michael-“
He cannot find the words to say, because he thinks he’s said every form of sorry that ever existed.
“I-“
What else was there to say? I love you? I miss you? I shouldn’t have said anything about it? I should’ve been happy for you?
“Michael, I-“
And he stops there, because he knows that nothing in the world he could ever say would make Michael forgive him.
It’s taken so much time just to gather the strength to be able to say “Michael’s gone,” and with a pain like this driving daggers through his heart over and over again, David doesn’t think he’ll make it to the next day-
-but he’s going to keep trying, because he knows he owes Michael that much, and more.
Michael, I-
And it is as though the wind is caressing him, as though it is speaking to him.
I know, David.
I know.