My Heart Was Blinded (Cookleta, R)
Title: My Heart Was Blinded
Author: sophie_448
Rating: R
Pairing: Cookleta
Word Count: 1247
Warnings: SUICIDE (somewhat graphic), Depression, Substance Abuse (alcohol), Drunk Driving, Character Death, General Dark Themes
Summary: Archie leaves Cook alone, except that he doesn't.
Beta: waterofthemoon THANKS BB! <3
Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARIA! I hope you like it! I've never written a fic quite this dark before, but the prompt really spoke to me. Everyone PLEASE take note of the warnings. I know most of my stuff is kind of fluffy or porn, and that is not this fic. I would hate for anyone to be triggered or otherwise upset. Title from "Goodbye My Lover" by James Blunt.
He’s sorry the second he knows he’s been successful. He’s sorry because the first sound he hears in the afterlife is his boyfriend begging him not to go.
“Oh, God, Arch! Archie! Oh, fuck! Stay with me. Just stay with me, baby. Help’s coming. Goddammit, Arch. Don’t you die on me. Don’t you dare leave me here by myself-”
And then there are no more words for a while. Cook is kneeling in the blood soaking the bathroom floor, holding Archie’s lifeless body to his chest and sobbing-no, sobbing doesn’t begin to describe the sound coming from Cook. It’s like the sound of pain itself, hitting the air unfiltered.
It’s the sound David’s soul had been making until it escaped the shell that Cook is still holding. There had been so much pain there at the end that there hadn’t been room for anything else. It stretched out for months and years, and finally, David just couldn’t see the point anymore of going through the endless cycle, getting up every morning to fight the losing battle of pretending to be okay. Finally, he just couldn’t anymore. He hadn’t thought of Cook when he was standing at the sink with the razor blade. Not really. He’d just been thinking about not hurting anymore.
The pain is gone now, clarity breaking through like the sudden brightness of the sun after a thunderstorm. Now he remembers beauty and joy and love, remembers who made him really understand what all those things even meant, and now that person is in so much pain because of him. He never wanted that. Never wanted Cook to feel anything close to what he lived with everyday.
“Don’t go, don’t go,” Cook is whispering brokenly against his cooling skin.
There’s a bright light just at the periphery of David’s vision. He can feel it trying to pull him in. He knows if he looks directly at it, he won’t be able to resist. He looks at Cook instead. He can’t undo this. He knows it’s too late for that. But at least he can do something. He ignores the light, and it gradually fades away. David stays.
***
It’s strange, watching his own funeral. Hearing his friends and family talk about how he was a light, the joy he had given them, how they didn’t understand. He hadn’t felt like a light. For a long time, he had just felt awkward and out of place, never like he belonged to this world. Everyone around him seemed to belong so effortlessly. It made him jealous to watch them. Then, eventually, all he felt was darkness.
Cook was the only one who ever made him feel like there was a place for him, a home. Cook is standing up now. He’s talking about the life they shared, the love. Then he’s covering his face with his hands. He tries a couple more times to speak, but he’s crying too hard. Andrew stands and hugs him tight, then leads him away.
Weeks go by, and Cook mostly stays home-their home. He drinks a lot. He never drank around David. He didn’t quit drinking, and David never asked him to, but he hadn’t done it in their home because he knew it made David uncomfortable.
Two weeks in, Neal comes over. He makes a face at the mess, but he doesn’t say anything. He just comes over and sits beside Cook on the couch, a little distance between them. That’s it, he just sits. After a while, he claps Cook on the shoulder, his hand lingering a moment longer than strictly necessary. He gets up and leaves, darting a concerned glance backwards before he shuts the door.
A week after that, Brooke comes over and yells at him. David’s startled. He’d never seen her get really angry over everything. She knocks an empty Chinese takeout box off the counter while she tells Cook to take a shower and get back out into the world. You think you’re the only one who misses him? Cook just stares at her with dull eyes. She stares back, breathing hard, before she finally shakes her head in disgust and leaves.
Cook’s manager arrives a couple of days after that. He treats Cook like he’s fragile and possibly about to explode. He talks softly about contractual obligations. Cook just shrugs. I’ve got enough to pay the penalties.
David wants to cry out at that, but he has no voice. It isn’t like the movies. He can’t move things or rattle the windows if he tries hard enough. He just is, and he isn’t. He figures this must be the punishment for killing yourself. You have to stay and watch the damage from what you’ve done.
Two more weeks and a couple of visitors later, Johns and Andrew show up and say that Cook is coming out with them, and they’re not taking no for an answer. Cook tries to protest, tries to ignore them, but they just keep poking and prodding until he reluctantly goes to his bedroom and picks out a relatively clean t-shirt and pair of jeans. He runs a hand half-heartedly through his hair, then shrugs and grabs his keys. I can leave whenever I want. David hopes maybe spending some time with other people will help him.
Cook’s had a lot to drink. He just kept telling the bartender to pour him another. He’s half-slumped over the bar when Crush comes on the radio; David doesn’t know why it’s even playing in a dirty, rock and roll bar like this. A shudder runs through Cook’s body. Andrew and Johns have both wandered off momentarily. Cook shoves up from the stool and practically runs out of the bar.
There’s nothing David can do as he watches Cook shove the keys in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot. It’s raining slightly, nothing that would be a problem for a sober driver, but Cook’s sliding all over the road, in and out of his lane. David sees the truck coming on, but Cook’s too far gone. He realizes at the last second and swerves hard. He misses the truck, but he can’t regain control on the slippery pavement. The car hits a tree hard. There’s broken glass and steam and Cook bleeding and unconscious, and there’s not a thing David can do about it. Fortunately, the driver of the truck calls 911.
***
David watches Cook flatline on the operating table, and then suddenly, he’s there beside him.
Archie. I knew you were still here.
How?
Knew you wouldn’t really leave me. Why did you leave me?
I didn’t-I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Cook. It all seemed really important and overwhelming at the time.
More important than me? Than us?
David doesn’t have an answer, but Cook seems to understand.
It looks different from this side.
You can’t stay here, Cook.
Why not? You’re here.
But I was wrong! You should go back and live your life. Make music, live, laugh. Love.
The doctor’s are moving frantically around Cook’s body. Machines are going crazy, and they’re charging the paddles for a second time.
I can’t love without my heart, Arch.
The light that David had ignored weeks ago is suddenly back. Last chance.
Do-do you think it’s better? There?
He knows Cook will know where he’s talking about.
Let’s find out.
Author: sophie_448
Rating: R
Pairing: Cookleta
Word Count: 1247
Warnings: SUICIDE (somewhat graphic), Depression, Substance Abuse (alcohol), Drunk Driving, Character Death, General Dark Themes
Summary: Archie leaves Cook alone, except that he doesn't.
Beta: waterofthemoon THANKS BB! <3
Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MARIA! I hope you like it! I've never written a fic quite this dark before, but the prompt really spoke to me. Everyone PLEASE take note of the warnings. I know most of my stuff is kind of fluffy or porn, and that is not this fic. I would hate for anyone to be triggered or otherwise upset. Title from "Goodbye My Lover" by James Blunt.
He’s sorry the second he knows he’s been successful. He’s sorry because the first sound he hears in the afterlife is his boyfriend begging him not to go.
“Oh, God, Arch! Archie! Oh, fuck! Stay with me. Just stay with me, baby. Help’s coming. Goddammit, Arch. Don’t you die on me. Don’t you dare leave me here by myself-”
And then there are no more words for a while. Cook is kneeling in the blood soaking the bathroom floor, holding Archie’s lifeless body to his chest and sobbing-no, sobbing doesn’t begin to describe the sound coming from Cook. It’s like the sound of pain itself, hitting the air unfiltered.
It’s the sound David’s soul had been making until it escaped the shell that Cook is still holding. There had been so much pain there at the end that there hadn’t been room for anything else. It stretched out for months and years, and finally, David just couldn’t see the point anymore of going through the endless cycle, getting up every morning to fight the losing battle of pretending to be okay. Finally, he just couldn’t anymore. He hadn’t thought of Cook when he was standing at the sink with the razor blade. Not really. He’d just been thinking about not hurting anymore.
The pain is gone now, clarity breaking through like the sudden brightness of the sun after a thunderstorm. Now he remembers beauty and joy and love, remembers who made him really understand what all those things even meant, and now that person is in so much pain because of him. He never wanted that. Never wanted Cook to feel anything close to what he lived with everyday.
“Don’t go, don’t go,” Cook is whispering brokenly against his cooling skin.
There’s a bright light just at the periphery of David’s vision. He can feel it trying to pull him in. He knows if he looks directly at it, he won’t be able to resist. He looks at Cook instead. He can’t undo this. He knows it’s too late for that. But at least he can do something. He ignores the light, and it gradually fades away. David stays.
***
It’s strange, watching his own funeral. Hearing his friends and family talk about how he was a light, the joy he had given them, how they didn’t understand. He hadn’t felt like a light. For a long time, he had just felt awkward and out of place, never like he belonged to this world. Everyone around him seemed to belong so effortlessly. It made him jealous to watch them. Then, eventually, all he felt was darkness.
Cook was the only one who ever made him feel like there was a place for him, a home. Cook is standing up now. He’s talking about the life they shared, the love. Then he’s covering his face with his hands. He tries a couple more times to speak, but he’s crying too hard. Andrew stands and hugs him tight, then leads him away.
Weeks go by, and Cook mostly stays home-their home. He drinks a lot. He never drank around David. He didn’t quit drinking, and David never asked him to, but he hadn’t done it in their home because he knew it made David uncomfortable.
Two weeks in, Neal comes over. He makes a face at the mess, but he doesn’t say anything. He just comes over and sits beside Cook on the couch, a little distance between them. That’s it, he just sits. After a while, he claps Cook on the shoulder, his hand lingering a moment longer than strictly necessary. He gets up and leaves, darting a concerned glance backwards before he shuts the door.
A week after that, Brooke comes over and yells at him. David’s startled. He’d never seen her get really angry over everything. She knocks an empty Chinese takeout box off the counter while she tells Cook to take a shower and get back out into the world. You think you’re the only one who misses him? Cook just stares at her with dull eyes. She stares back, breathing hard, before she finally shakes her head in disgust and leaves.
Cook’s manager arrives a couple of days after that. He treats Cook like he’s fragile and possibly about to explode. He talks softly about contractual obligations. Cook just shrugs. I’ve got enough to pay the penalties.
David wants to cry out at that, but he has no voice. It isn’t like the movies. He can’t move things or rattle the windows if he tries hard enough. He just is, and he isn’t. He figures this must be the punishment for killing yourself. You have to stay and watch the damage from what you’ve done.
Two more weeks and a couple of visitors later, Johns and Andrew show up and say that Cook is coming out with them, and they’re not taking no for an answer. Cook tries to protest, tries to ignore them, but they just keep poking and prodding until he reluctantly goes to his bedroom and picks out a relatively clean t-shirt and pair of jeans. He runs a hand half-heartedly through his hair, then shrugs and grabs his keys. I can leave whenever I want. David hopes maybe spending some time with other people will help him.
Cook’s had a lot to drink. He just kept telling the bartender to pour him another. He’s half-slumped over the bar when Crush comes on the radio; David doesn’t know why it’s even playing in a dirty, rock and roll bar like this. A shudder runs through Cook’s body. Andrew and Johns have both wandered off momentarily. Cook shoves up from the stool and practically runs out of the bar.
There’s nothing David can do as he watches Cook shove the keys in the ignition and peel out of the parking lot. It’s raining slightly, nothing that would be a problem for a sober driver, but Cook’s sliding all over the road, in and out of his lane. David sees the truck coming on, but Cook’s too far gone. He realizes at the last second and swerves hard. He misses the truck, but he can’t regain control on the slippery pavement. The car hits a tree hard. There’s broken glass and steam and Cook bleeding and unconscious, and there’s not a thing David can do about it. Fortunately, the driver of the truck calls 911.
***
David watches Cook flatline on the operating table, and then suddenly, he’s there beside him.
Archie. I knew you were still here.
How?
Knew you wouldn’t really leave me. Why did you leave me?
I didn’t-I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Cook. It all seemed really important and overwhelming at the time.
More important than me? Than us?
David doesn’t have an answer, but Cook seems to understand.
It looks different from this side.
You can’t stay here, Cook.
Why not? You’re here.
But I was wrong! You should go back and live your life. Make music, live, laugh. Love.
The doctor’s are moving frantically around Cook’s body. Machines are going crazy, and they’re charging the paddles for a second time.
I can’t love without my heart, Arch.
The light that David had ignored weeks ago is suddenly back. Last chance.
Do-do you think it’s better? There?
He knows Cook will know where he’s talking about.
Let’s find out.