(Untitled)

[decayingly]

Characters: Agravaine (nevermercy) & Gawain (decayingly)
Date/Time: June 1st, afternoon
Location: Mercy Hospital, Long Island
Rating: TBA
Warnings: TBA
Summary: One died. The other thinks this one's a fake. Stuff of legends.

Comments

[decayingly]

After the reaction he had gathered online, Gawain should have expected this. How could he explain this though? He had died. Every moment, every second, the body beneath his, the blood, so much blood, the stench. The knight could swear he could sense it when he woke, all around him like it was chasing him even now. Again, his hands closed tightly, both of them now, and he closed his eyes. A few breaths and his focus on that hand, real physical contact, that was all he needed. It wasn’t the first time this had happened. Gawain had died by a friend’s hand. The fisherman in the sea. The guard protecting his queen. He had known death several times.

Gawain didn’t curse but he sure as hell wished he could.

“I know I died. I know that better than anyone.” It was a wonder how his voice didn’t shake, how his breathing regained its cool state once he looked at his brother. He got the anger - he had broken his promise again - and he understood the doubt - Polyxena, of all people, had pushed him to see it. “I don’t why, I don’t know, I can’t explain it. But I died.” It hadn’t been a lie nor a dream, it hadn’t.

The left hand unclenched to grab his hospital gown, pushing it to the side to show the ugly scar underneath. He said nothing else. It was the only explanation he had to give.