Good Night
Title:: Good Night
Genre:: Vam Song Fic
Rating:: G
Summary:: Gut' Nacht am Tor, An Dich Hab' Ich Gedacht
Author's Note:: The lyrics used in this story are from Gute Nacht by Franz Schubert's collection, Winterreise. An English translation is provided at the end of the story.
Good Night
Fremd bin ich eingezogen,
Fremd zieh' ich wieder aus.
Der Mai war mir gewogen
Mit manchem Blumenstrauß.
Das Mädchen sprach von Liebe,
Die Mutter gar von Eh', -
Nun ist die Welt so trübe,
Der Weg gehüllt in Schnee.
I’m a wanderer. If I stay in one place for too long, I start to get chlostrophobic. It’s not that I want to leave. I never do. But when the wind blows a certain way, my feet start itching, and I know it’s time to go. My fate goes ahead of me, and who am I to deny the current? Time and tide wait for no man. I go from place to place, not knowing how I got there or when I’ll leave; I always think that maybe this time, this time it will be right. This time I’ll stay. But it never happens. I pass in and out of people’s lives, weaving patterns of sadness and joy through the fabric of this world. Nobody really knows me; nobody ever really cares about me. That’s how it usually goes. However, one time, things were just a little different.
I had come to America in the beginning of the year, and by May I found myself in the suburbs of Philadelphia, walking down a street and simply relishing the smell of the flowers growing in boxes outside all of the stores, when I was run into by a speeding ball of color and screams. I ended up a tangled and mangled mess on the sidewalk, kicking at the hellion and wrestling myself free. My attacker and I were soon joined by more speeding screaming demons, all of whom were laughing at the mess we were in. The assaulter found his feet first and helped me up.
“Sorry dude.” Low voice; the mutilated American accent that was so endearing - I shook my head and smiled. “I’ll make it up to you, come on. Do you like coffee?” The devil had the bluest eyes which shined through his matted brown hair.
“Sure.” My feet were telling me to go with him - his friends had long become bored and cleared off. I followed the boy into a nearby coffee shop, told him I liked it black, and then we sat down across from each other.
“My name is Bam - sorry about that earlier. People normally know to move out of my way around here… you must be new to the area. Haven’t seen you here before.” I shook my head.
“You wouldn’t have.” He frowned a little - crypticness is my best weapon.
“Right. So what brings you here …”
“Ville. My name’s Ville.”
“Ville? Right. So... where are you from, Ville?”
“Nowhere.” He frowned again, but then smiled.
“Right. And what are you doing here?”
“I’m not actually sure yet.” I shrug.
“Where are you staying?”
“Yeah, ditto the not actually sure yet… I just got here.”
“Well. There aren’t many hotels around here - so, you’re going to have to come and stay with me.”
“I am?”
“Yes. It’s the least I could do - look, you’re completely scraped up.”
“Doesn’t matter - I’ve seen worse.” He looked at me, scrutinizing every detail. He was enchanting, this devil in an angel’s guise.
“Yeah… I’ll bet you have…” He was so open, so easy… the exact opposite of me. But soon I found myself actually talking to him… and in no time, we were actually having fun.
Love is something that normally evades my path. Fate seems to not have it in mind for me. I had never felt its soft fingers caress my heart, nor its claws dig into my soul. However, in just two weeks with this boy - man - and his family and friends, I was tripping over the little word, without even knowing it.
He brought it up first. He was the first to smile at me in a way he never smiled at his friends. He took my hand and caressed it softly. I felt my heart flutter and try to stretch it’s wings. It was a while, however, before I let it fly; a while before I let his lips graze mine, before I let his hands wander, before I trusted myself to do the same to him. It was a while before I realized that this was love; that I’d found the mysterious thing at last.
Ich kann zu meiner Reisen
Nicht wählen mit der Zeit,
Muß selbst den Weg mir weisen
In dieser Dunkelheit.
Es zieht ein Mondenschatten
Als mein Gefährte mit,
Und auf den weißen Matten
Such' ich des Wildes Tritt.
I stayed there for longer than I’ve ever stayed anywhere in my life. It was a nice place, and of course, I had Bam. He didn’t let me out of his sight for more than 10 minutes at a time. I was amazed - I thought that affection like this existed only between man and woman. But he assured me that it was okay, that it was normal… that he loved me, and he knew I loved him. Sometimes, I’ll admit, I wanted to run away. I fly solo, I’m not used to having an accomplice. I go through life by myself, I don’t normally have companions who’s feelings I have to worry about. I can do whatever I want, when I want to. But really, I didn’t mind giving it up so much. I’d never had so much fun in my life.
His friends accepted our ‘relationship’ right away. They just laughed at my insecurity, and told me Bam had always ‘fought for the other team’. My European upbringing told me that what I was doing was wrong, but I was in the land of the free… so I didn’t mind so much.
But there were people who minded Bam’s decision very much. They followed us wherever we went, when they found out, lights flashing and shouting questions at us left and right. Bam explained to me that he was ‘famous’, a pro-skater with a popular TV-show… that people always wanted to know what he was doing, and were only too eager to criticize every move he made. He told me it didn’t matter, that I should just forget about it. I tried to do as he said - and when his lips were working on mine, I did. I had fallen for the devil, and I loved him, as much as I possibly could.
Was soll ich länger weilen,
Daß man mich trieb hinaus ?
Laß irre Hunde heulen
Vor ihres Herren Haus;
Die Liebe liebt das Wandern -
Gott hat sie so gemacht -
Von einem zu dem andern.
Fein Liebchen, gute Nacht !
It wasn’t until we started getting hate mail and even more media attention that things started to go downhill. I hated seeing my previously anonymous face plastered across tabloids which had, before, meant absolutely nothing to me. None of this phased Bam at all. He was untouchable, strong. It was December now, it was cold. The wind howled around the street corners and for the most part we stayed holed up in the house, talking and cuddling. A picture of true love - and to this day, I believe that’s what it was. But I could feel the familiar feeling - the choked quality of the air, the eagerness in my feet. I cursed it. I wanted it to go away, to leave me alone. But there was no escaping. The constant hassle was making me angry, the fact that people couldn’t leave us alone was driving me crazy. Bam could see it and he was scared; I think, in his heart, he knew that eventually, I had to go. But he didn’t want to face up to it. He was tricking himself into thinking that he was the one factor that would change my life, make me settle down, and soothe my feet when they started itching. I wished it would be so, if not for my sake, then for his.
He loved to hear about my travels. Especially in the cold of that winter. He would go up into the attic and pull out all the sleeping bags they owned and take them outside, with all the blankets and pillows he could find, and we sat wrapped up in sleeping bags and blankets in the snow, looking up at the stars while I told him about all the places I’d been and people I’d seen. He would listen for hours, content just to curl up next to my chest, a warm little ball of Bam listening silently, the only movement coming from him the up and down movement of his body with his breath. It was times like these, I think, when I loved him most - when he was calm and his undivided attention was focused on me. I’d never had anyone ever focus on just me before. I loved it when his ears were open for my words and he drank them up like the sweetest honey. I loved how, when I was done, he would sigh happily and tell me I was the luckiest man in the world. How he would move up and kiss me like his life depended on it. Loved how he would make love to me in the snow under the stars, slowly, passionately, lovingly. Loved how he would hold me afterwards and tell me I was his, that I never had to leave him if I didn’t want to, that I was safe with him; things were different now. Loved it, hated it. No one owns me; the thought ran through my brain like poison even as the words left his sweet, sweet lips. I wanted to be his, but I needed space, I needed to be able to breathe… like sand - squeeze it tight and it’ll run through your fingers.
I left. I had to. We both knew, in our heart of hearts, that none of the magic would have lasted. It was the night of December the 25th. Christmas had been magical. Would have been magical if I hadn’t found the newspaper he tried so hard to hide from me. The one that had our pictures across the front of it, a picture of our hands entwined, the one shouting profanities in big red text above the picture that would have been so sweet. I left before he had the chance to throw me out, before he had the chance to realize that he did care what people thought of him. I left before I got too attached to his blue eyes and his brown hair, his tattoos and his smooth, creamy skin. I left when I knew I still could - and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.
Will dich im Traum nicht stören,
Wär schad' um deine Ruh'.
Sollst meinen Tritt nicht hören -
Sacht, sacht die Türe zu !
Schreib im Vorübergehen
Ans Tor dir: Gute Nacht,
Damit du mögest sehen,
An dich hab' ich gedacht.
I woke up in the middle of the night, as I had determined to do before we even fell asleep. My clothes were already packed and downstairs - I’d done that while he was in the shower singing to himself. I laughed while I was packing; he really couldn’t sing. When I woke he was still fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that he looked beautiful, moonlight falling on his face, his luscious eyelashes resting on his cheek. Looking at him, I wanted to burst into tears, and tie myself to him forever. I didn’t want to get out of that bed, into the cold night air. I didn’t want to get dressed and leave him there in that big bed all alone. But I did. Slowly, carefully, got out of bed - he stirred, and I froze, and watched him until he sniffed a bit and fell back into his deep sleep. I didn’t want him to wake up. I didn’t want him to bother about me. I stepped quietly to his side of the bed, blocking the moonlight from his face, and leant over to leave a last kiss on his pink lips. I could feel the cold outside air calling to me, and my feet were longing to feel the crunch of freshly fallen snow beneath them. But I couldn’t pull myself away. I loved him. It might have been the first time I really realized - I loved him. I’ll never forget you, I whispered it out loud. I wanted to steal away immediately, but I made myself sit down and, in the moonlight, I wrote him a long letter, which I lay on the pillow. I’ll be thinking of you, it said, I’ll always love you. And then, like a wisp of a dream, I was gone.
Schreib im Vorübergehen
Ans Tor dir: Gute Nacht,
Damit du mögest sehen,
An dich hab' ich gedacht.
I traveled for years, from this place to that. Some people recognized me, most didn’t. I dove in and out of people’s lives, but no-one ever made a lasting impression on me, and I never left one on them. I would never fall in love again; I would compare everyone’s eyes to Bam’s, everyone’s hair to Bam’s. Everyone’s laugh would pale in comparison to his; no-one’s smile was bright enough, no-one’s skin was soft enough. No-one cared enough. I thought of him every minute of every day, and I never, ever let myself forget a minute of the time we had. And I was always on the lookout for him, in case he’d moved. But he never had, and until today, I’d never gone back to West Chester. But … I needed to see him one last time. Today’s Christmas - it’s snowing. My cheeks are chaffed and red, as I stand in the dark outside his house. The same house, but older. The paint’s dirty, but there are two new cars in the driveway. Everything’s covered in snow - it looks like time has stopped. I’ve come back to those wonderful months and nothing has changed, and he’s still asleep upstairs, waiting for me to come back. But then I wake myself up, and I look in the window. I can see him from where I’m standing. There, sitting on the couch with a beautiful woman next to him holding his arm, and two beautiful children on his lap. He’s laughing; they’re all laughing. Then he stops, and stares. His eyes bore through the window, and I realize that I’m standing in the light, and he can see me. He’s lifting his children off his knee and standing up, but I smile at him and shake my head. He’s coming outside anyways, but I’m walking away - I’ve seen him, I’m done.
“Ville!” I turn around. “Ville…” He’s barefoot but he’s making to come through the snow, I shake my head.
“I just came to say Good Night, Bam.” His blue eyes wrinkle in confusion. I smile, and wave, and then, just like before, I’m gone. Good Night
Ans Tor dir: Gute Nacht,
An dich hab' ich gedacht.
English
As a stranger I arrived,
As a stranger again I leave.
May was kind to me
With many bunches of flowers.
The girl spoke of love,
Her mother even of marriage, -
Now the world is bleak,
The path covered by snow.
I cannot choose the time
Of my departure;
I must find my own way
In this darkness.
With a shadow cast by the moonlight
As my traveling companion
I'll search for animal tracks
On the white fields.
Why should I linger, waiting
Until I am driven out?
Let stray dogs howl
Outside their master's house;
Love loves to wander
God has made her so
From one to the other.
Dear love, good night!
I will not disturb you in your dreaming,
It would be a pity to disturb your rest;
You shall not hear my footsteps
Softly, softly shut the door!
On my way out I'll write
"Good Night" on the gate,
So that you may see
That I have thought of you.
"Good Night" at the gate,
I have thought of you.
Genre:: Vam Song Fic
Rating:: G
Summary:: Gut' Nacht am Tor, An Dich Hab' Ich Gedacht
Author's Note:: The lyrics used in this story are from Gute Nacht by Franz Schubert's collection, Winterreise. An English translation is provided at the end of the story.
Good Night
Fremd bin ich eingezogen,
Fremd zieh' ich wieder aus.
Der Mai war mir gewogen
Mit manchem Blumenstrauß.
Das Mädchen sprach von Liebe,
Die Mutter gar von Eh', -
Nun ist die Welt so trübe,
Der Weg gehüllt in Schnee.
I’m a wanderer. If I stay in one place for too long, I start to get chlostrophobic. It’s not that I want to leave. I never do. But when the wind blows a certain way, my feet start itching, and I know it’s time to go. My fate goes ahead of me, and who am I to deny the current? Time and tide wait for no man. I go from place to place, not knowing how I got there or when I’ll leave; I always think that maybe this time, this time it will be right. This time I’ll stay. But it never happens. I pass in and out of people’s lives, weaving patterns of sadness and joy through the fabric of this world. Nobody really knows me; nobody ever really cares about me. That’s how it usually goes. However, one time, things were just a little different.
I had come to America in the beginning of the year, and by May I found myself in the suburbs of Philadelphia, walking down a street and simply relishing the smell of the flowers growing in boxes outside all of the stores, when I was run into by a speeding ball of color and screams. I ended up a tangled and mangled mess on the sidewalk, kicking at the hellion and wrestling myself free. My attacker and I were soon joined by more speeding screaming demons, all of whom were laughing at the mess we were in. The assaulter found his feet first and helped me up.
“Sorry dude.” Low voice; the mutilated American accent that was so endearing - I shook my head and smiled. “I’ll make it up to you, come on. Do you like coffee?” The devil had the bluest eyes which shined through his matted brown hair.
“Sure.” My feet were telling me to go with him - his friends had long become bored and cleared off. I followed the boy into a nearby coffee shop, told him I liked it black, and then we sat down across from each other.
“My name is Bam - sorry about that earlier. People normally know to move out of my way around here… you must be new to the area. Haven’t seen you here before.” I shook my head.
“You wouldn’t have.” He frowned a little - crypticness is my best weapon.
“Right. So what brings you here …”
“Ville. My name’s Ville.”
“Ville? Right. So... where are you from, Ville?”
“Nowhere.” He frowned again, but then smiled.
“Right. And what are you doing here?”
“I’m not actually sure yet.” I shrug.
“Where are you staying?”
“Yeah, ditto the not actually sure yet… I just got here.”
“Well. There aren’t many hotels around here - so, you’re going to have to come and stay with me.”
“I am?”
“Yes. It’s the least I could do - look, you’re completely scraped up.”
“Doesn’t matter - I’ve seen worse.” He looked at me, scrutinizing every detail. He was enchanting, this devil in an angel’s guise.
“Yeah… I’ll bet you have…” He was so open, so easy… the exact opposite of me. But soon I found myself actually talking to him… and in no time, we were actually having fun.
Love is something that normally evades my path. Fate seems to not have it in mind for me. I had never felt its soft fingers caress my heart, nor its claws dig into my soul. However, in just two weeks with this boy - man - and his family and friends, I was tripping over the little word, without even knowing it.
He brought it up first. He was the first to smile at me in a way he never smiled at his friends. He took my hand and caressed it softly. I felt my heart flutter and try to stretch it’s wings. It was a while, however, before I let it fly; a while before I let his lips graze mine, before I let his hands wander, before I trusted myself to do the same to him. It was a while before I realized that this was love; that I’d found the mysterious thing at last.
Ich kann zu meiner Reisen
Nicht wählen mit der Zeit,
Muß selbst den Weg mir weisen
In dieser Dunkelheit.
Es zieht ein Mondenschatten
Als mein Gefährte mit,
Und auf den weißen Matten
Such' ich des Wildes Tritt.
I stayed there for longer than I’ve ever stayed anywhere in my life. It was a nice place, and of course, I had Bam. He didn’t let me out of his sight for more than 10 minutes at a time. I was amazed - I thought that affection like this existed only between man and woman. But he assured me that it was okay, that it was normal… that he loved me, and he knew I loved him. Sometimes, I’ll admit, I wanted to run away. I fly solo, I’m not used to having an accomplice. I go through life by myself, I don’t normally have companions who’s feelings I have to worry about. I can do whatever I want, when I want to. But really, I didn’t mind giving it up so much. I’d never had so much fun in my life.
His friends accepted our ‘relationship’ right away. They just laughed at my insecurity, and told me Bam had always ‘fought for the other team’. My European upbringing told me that what I was doing was wrong, but I was in the land of the free… so I didn’t mind so much.
But there were people who minded Bam’s decision very much. They followed us wherever we went, when they found out, lights flashing and shouting questions at us left and right. Bam explained to me that he was ‘famous’, a pro-skater with a popular TV-show… that people always wanted to know what he was doing, and were only too eager to criticize every move he made. He told me it didn’t matter, that I should just forget about it. I tried to do as he said - and when his lips were working on mine, I did. I had fallen for the devil, and I loved him, as much as I possibly could.
Was soll ich länger weilen,
Daß man mich trieb hinaus ?
Laß irre Hunde heulen
Vor ihres Herren Haus;
Die Liebe liebt das Wandern -
Gott hat sie so gemacht -
Von einem zu dem andern.
Fein Liebchen, gute Nacht !
It wasn’t until we started getting hate mail and even more media attention that things started to go downhill. I hated seeing my previously anonymous face plastered across tabloids which had, before, meant absolutely nothing to me. None of this phased Bam at all. He was untouchable, strong. It was December now, it was cold. The wind howled around the street corners and for the most part we stayed holed up in the house, talking and cuddling. A picture of true love - and to this day, I believe that’s what it was. But I could feel the familiar feeling - the choked quality of the air, the eagerness in my feet. I cursed it. I wanted it to go away, to leave me alone. But there was no escaping. The constant hassle was making me angry, the fact that people couldn’t leave us alone was driving me crazy. Bam could see it and he was scared; I think, in his heart, he knew that eventually, I had to go. But he didn’t want to face up to it. He was tricking himself into thinking that he was the one factor that would change my life, make me settle down, and soothe my feet when they started itching. I wished it would be so, if not for my sake, then for his.
He loved to hear about my travels. Especially in the cold of that winter. He would go up into the attic and pull out all the sleeping bags they owned and take them outside, with all the blankets and pillows he could find, and we sat wrapped up in sleeping bags and blankets in the snow, looking up at the stars while I told him about all the places I’d been and people I’d seen. He would listen for hours, content just to curl up next to my chest, a warm little ball of Bam listening silently, the only movement coming from him the up and down movement of his body with his breath. It was times like these, I think, when I loved him most - when he was calm and his undivided attention was focused on me. I’d never had anyone ever focus on just me before. I loved it when his ears were open for my words and he drank them up like the sweetest honey. I loved how, when I was done, he would sigh happily and tell me I was the luckiest man in the world. How he would move up and kiss me like his life depended on it. Loved how he would make love to me in the snow under the stars, slowly, passionately, lovingly. Loved how he would hold me afterwards and tell me I was his, that I never had to leave him if I didn’t want to, that I was safe with him; things were different now. Loved it, hated it. No one owns me; the thought ran through my brain like poison even as the words left his sweet, sweet lips. I wanted to be his, but I needed space, I needed to be able to breathe… like sand - squeeze it tight and it’ll run through your fingers.
I left. I had to. We both knew, in our heart of hearts, that none of the magic would have lasted. It was the night of December the 25th. Christmas had been magical. Would have been magical if I hadn’t found the newspaper he tried so hard to hide from me. The one that had our pictures across the front of it, a picture of our hands entwined, the one shouting profanities in big red text above the picture that would have been so sweet. I left before he had the chance to throw me out, before he had the chance to realize that he did care what people thought of him. I left before I got too attached to his blue eyes and his brown hair, his tattoos and his smooth, creamy skin. I left when I knew I still could - and it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life.
Will dich im Traum nicht stören,
Wär schad' um deine Ruh'.
Sollst meinen Tritt nicht hören -
Sacht, sacht die Türe zu !
Schreib im Vorübergehen
Ans Tor dir: Gute Nacht,
Damit du mögest sehen,
An dich hab' ich gedacht.
I woke up in the middle of the night, as I had determined to do before we even fell asleep. My clothes were already packed and downstairs - I’d done that while he was in the shower singing to himself. I laughed while I was packing; he really couldn’t sing. When I woke he was still fast asleep, oblivious to the fact that he looked beautiful, moonlight falling on his face, his luscious eyelashes resting on his cheek. Looking at him, I wanted to burst into tears, and tie myself to him forever. I didn’t want to get out of that bed, into the cold night air. I didn’t want to get dressed and leave him there in that big bed all alone. But I did. Slowly, carefully, got out of bed - he stirred, and I froze, and watched him until he sniffed a bit and fell back into his deep sleep. I didn’t want him to wake up. I didn’t want him to bother about me. I stepped quietly to his side of the bed, blocking the moonlight from his face, and leant over to leave a last kiss on his pink lips. I could feel the cold outside air calling to me, and my feet were longing to feel the crunch of freshly fallen snow beneath them. But I couldn’t pull myself away. I loved him. It might have been the first time I really realized - I loved him. I’ll never forget you, I whispered it out loud. I wanted to steal away immediately, but I made myself sit down and, in the moonlight, I wrote him a long letter, which I lay on the pillow. I’ll be thinking of you, it said, I’ll always love you. And then, like a wisp of a dream, I was gone.
Schreib im Vorübergehen
Ans Tor dir: Gute Nacht,
Damit du mögest sehen,
An dich hab' ich gedacht.
I traveled for years, from this place to that. Some people recognized me, most didn’t. I dove in and out of people’s lives, but no-one ever made a lasting impression on me, and I never left one on them. I would never fall in love again; I would compare everyone’s eyes to Bam’s, everyone’s hair to Bam’s. Everyone’s laugh would pale in comparison to his; no-one’s smile was bright enough, no-one’s skin was soft enough. No-one cared enough. I thought of him every minute of every day, and I never, ever let myself forget a minute of the time we had. And I was always on the lookout for him, in case he’d moved. But he never had, and until today, I’d never gone back to West Chester. But … I needed to see him one last time. Today’s Christmas - it’s snowing. My cheeks are chaffed and red, as I stand in the dark outside his house. The same house, but older. The paint’s dirty, but there are two new cars in the driveway. Everything’s covered in snow - it looks like time has stopped. I’ve come back to those wonderful months and nothing has changed, and he’s still asleep upstairs, waiting for me to come back. But then I wake myself up, and I look in the window. I can see him from where I’m standing. There, sitting on the couch with a beautiful woman next to him holding his arm, and two beautiful children on his lap. He’s laughing; they’re all laughing. Then he stops, and stares. His eyes bore through the window, and I realize that I’m standing in the light, and he can see me. He’s lifting his children off his knee and standing up, but I smile at him and shake my head. He’s coming outside anyways, but I’m walking away - I’ve seen him, I’m done.
“Ville!” I turn around. “Ville…” He’s barefoot but he’s making to come through the snow, I shake my head.
“I just came to say Good Night, Bam.” His blue eyes wrinkle in confusion. I smile, and wave, and then, just like before, I’m gone. Good Night
Ans Tor dir: Gute Nacht,
An dich hab' ich gedacht.
English
As a stranger I arrived,
As a stranger again I leave.
May was kind to me
With many bunches of flowers.
The girl spoke of love,
Her mother even of marriage, -
Now the world is bleak,
The path covered by snow.
I cannot choose the time
Of my departure;
I must find my own way
In this darkness.
With a shadow cast by the moonlight
As my traveling companion
I'll search for animal tracks
On the white fields.
Why should I linger, waiting
Until I am driven out?
Let stray dogs howl
Outside their master's house;
Love loves to wander
God has made her so
From one to the other.
Dear love, good night!
I will not disturb you in your dreaming,
It would be a pity to disturb your rest;
You shall not hear my footsteps
Softly, softly shut the door!
On my way out I'll write
"Good Night" on the gate,
So that you may see
That I have thought of you.
"Good Night" at the gate,
I have thought of you.