[ so close to reaching that famous happy end ]
Title: Gracie
Author: muldy
Fandom: Rush
Pairing: Josh/Grace
Spoilers: 1x11
Rating: PG-13 M
Summary: "It’s cold and the sun set hours ago but he hasn’t moved. He can’t move. To him it feels as though if he moves that’s it, it’s over."
Gracie
It’s cold and the sun set hours ago but he hasn’t moved. He can’t move. To him it feels as though if he moves that’s it, it’s over. If he stands up and walks away he’s saying goodbye - and he’s said it so many times in that last week that he doesn’t think he can do it one last time. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough.
She was it, his whole life. Every morning when he woke up she was the first thing he thought of, how he could see her that day, and how he could spend the whole day with her - and at night before he went to sleep she was the last thing he thought of, how tomorrow he would wake up and even if she wasn’t by his side (because she rarely was in the morning) she would be there, somewhere, waiting for him.
Even though she was married he had been content knowing that at least he could see her. Of course it hurt, the guilt ate away at him, but it was nothing - not compared to this.
He sunk back into the grass of the cemetery, it was the third time since the funeral service that he had tried to get up and leave and it was the third time he had found himself back on the ground. There wasn’t a point anymore, he was never going to find another Grace, never going to see her smile again, never feel that guilt for being in love with a married woman.
Never feeling the guilt over knowing she loved him too.
Because how could she love him now? She was dead, gone, nothing more than a rotting corpse buried deep in the ground, surrounded by other people who used to love someone.
Josh had never loved anyone before her, that wasn’t his style. His whole life he had been happy to be single, to date, to mess around, but he had never told anyone that he loved them. A part of him wished he never had, maybe this was his fault, maybe it was all a curse brought on to hurt him and it had killed her.
He pushes away the tears that prick at his eyes constantly. He has to leave, he has to say goodbye, turn around and walk away. Why had this happened to her? Why wasn’t it him? He should’ve been the one in the hospital, maybe he would’ve been stronger.
Not that Grace had ever been weak. She was one of the strongest people he knew - had known - and he wishes right then that he could be as strong as her. He wishes he could turn away and forget it ever happened, but he can’t do that, not to Grace.
She’s too important.
The worst thing was the way everyone else looked at him during the service. The way her husband had looked at him, and for a moment he wonders where her husband is, why he isn’t here. But he knows her husband has somewhere else to be where he can remember her, he has a house full of her things to remember her by.
Josh has nothing but a handful of memories.
Slowly he stands up again, this time he’s going to leave, it’s beginning to rain and he can’t sit out there all night. He knows he has to go home eventually, Lawson tried to call seven or eight times before he switched his phone off. He doesn’t want to talk to them, they don’t understand. None of them.
She wasn’t just his team mate, she wasn’t just his friend, she was it. His life. Everything he had done since the day he met her had been about her, and now he had nothing to form his life around - the whole thing seemed like a big empty wasteland, as though he’d been living in a rich rainforest and had suddenly found himself in the middle of the Sahara, not knowing how he got there or why and with no idea how to find the forest again.
Because in the middle of the desert it’s so hard to believe there could possibly be anything more. All he sees before him is a whole lot of emptiness.
He places the single flower he’s been holding all day on top of the ones the others have left her and stares at her name for a moment longer. He has to say goodbye, he has to do it now because if he doesn’t, he’s not going to. Not ever.
He moves to her temporary headstone and presses his hand lightly against her name.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gracie,” he whispers, and after a moment he turns and leaves.
It’s not goodbye, he’s not ready for that, not by a long shot, but it’s a start.
Author: muldy
Fandom: Rush
Pairing: Josh/Grace
Spoilers: 1x11
Rating: PG-13 M
Summary: "It’s cold and the sun set hours ago but he hasn’t moved. He can’t move. To him it feels as though if he moves that’s it, it’s over."
Gracie
It’s cold and the sun set hours ago but he hasn’t moved. He can’t move. To him it feels as though if he moves that’s it, it’s over. If he stands up and walks away he’s saying goodbye - and he’s said it so many times in that last week that he doesn’t think he can do it one last time. He doesn’t think he’s strong enough.
She was it, his whole life. Every morning when he woke up she was the first thing he thought of, how he could see her that day, and how he could spend the whole day with her - and at night before he went to sleep she was the last thing he thought of, how tomorrow he would wake up and even if she wasn’t by his side (because she rarely was in the morning) she would be there, somewhere, waiting for him.
Even though she was married he had been content knowing that at least he could see her. Of course it hurt, the guilt ate away at him, but it was nothing - not compared to this.
He sunk back into the grass of the cemetery, it was the third time since the funeral service that he had tried to get up and leave and it was the third time he had found himself back on the ground. There wasn’t a point anymore, he was never going to find another Grace, never going to see her smile again, never feel that guilt for being in love with a married woman.
Never feeling the guilt over knowing she loved him too.
Because how could she love him now? She was dead, gone, nothing more than a rotting corpse buried deep in the ground, surrounded by other people who used to love someone.
Josh had never loved anyone before her, that wasn’t his style. His whole life he had been happy to be single, to date, to mess around, but he had never told anyone that he loved them. A part of him wished he never had, maybe this was his fault, maybe it was all a curse brought on to hurt him and it had killed her.
He pushes away the tears that prick at his eyes constantly. He has to leave, he has to say goodbye, turn around and walk away. Why had this happened to her? Why wasn’t it him? He should’ve been the one in the hospital, maybe he would’ve been stronger.
Not that Grace had ever been weak. She was one of the strongest people he knew - had known - and he wishes right then that he could be as strong as her. He wishes he could turn away and forget it ever happened, but he can’t do that, not to Grace.
She’s too important.
The worst thing was the way everyone else looked at him during the service. The way her husband had looked at him, and for a moment he wonders where her husband is, why he isn’t here. But he knows her husband has somewhere else to be where he can remember her, he has a house full of her things to remember her by.
Josh has nothing but a handful of memories.
Slowly he stands up again, this time he’s going to leave, it’s beginning to rain and he can’t sit out there all night. He knows he has to go home eventually, Lawson tried to call seven or eight times before he switched his phone off. He doesn’t want to talk to them, they don’t understand. None of them.
She wasn’t just his team mate, she wasn’t just his friend, she was it. His life. Everything he had done since the day he met her had been about her, and now he had nothing to form his life around - the whole thing seemed like a big empty wasteland, as though he’d been living in a rich rainforest and had suddenly found himself in the middle of the Sahara, not knowing how he got there or why and with no idea how to find the forest again.
Because in the middle of the desert it’s so hard to believe there could possibly be anything more. All he sees before him is a whole lot of emptiness.
He places the single flower he’s been holding all day on top of the ones the others have left her and stares at her name for a moment longer. He has to say goodbye, he has to do it now because if he doesn’t, he’s not going to. Not ever.
He moves to her temporary headstone and presses his hand lightly against her name.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Gracie,” he whispers, and after a moment he turns and leaves.
It’s not goodbye, he’s not ready for that, not by a long shot, but it’s a start.