Graffixation Stories and Artwork #5
Artist: comasisters
Prescription For Forgetting by cmk419
Don’t forget me.
Never.
He retrieved the pills he’d been carefully hoarding since Doctor Nathan started dispensing them. He cited a lack of sleep as the reason for the twice-a-week visits to her office. He could have just as easily gotten a dosage from Sister Pete, but she could figure out what he was up to soon enough.
The memories were too much - everywhere he looked he saw Chris - lounging in the quad, strutting through the cafeteria, reaching for him in the laundry room. And everywhere here, since McManus decided to assign Toby to the first pod that he and Chris shared.
One pill for the moment Chris broke Mark Mack’s nose, one pill for the kiss in the laundry room, one pill for breaking his arms and legs, one pill for New Year’s Eve, one pill for going to Cedar Junction, and one for coming back. One pill for fucking with Toby’s parole.
Two left…
One for freeing Toby from Schillinger’s grasp.
One for freeing himself from Toby’s.
Toby closed his eyes - something that Chris didn’t have the opportunity to do - and drifted off into oblivion.
I Feel the Fall by cwitch
Title: I Feel The Fall
Author: cwitch
Fandom: Oz (tv)
Wordcount: 1140
Rating: R
Characters: Tobias Beecher, Chris Keller
Pairing(s): Beecher/Keller
Genre: Angst
Warning(s): Warnings are at the end of the story.
Contains: Spoilers for entire series, set post Season 6
Disclaimer: All characters used herein are the property of Fontana/Levinson and HBO. No copyright infringement intended. No profit shall be made; this is solely a work of the author's imagination.
Summary: A letter ... Written for Oz Graffixation Challenge on oz_graffiti
I really don't know what you want. Some sort of magnum opus on love in prison? Or maybe something cuter - are You There God, It's me, Toby? Maybe a simple “Dear Diary, today I had chicken nuggets for dinner and drove a knife through the chest of my enemy?”
Writing about any of this won't make it better, Doctor, won't make ME better. I'm done, gone, flew over that railing with him. I'll never be the same. I'll never be ME. There is no me anymore.
You want to know what I remember? How I feel? HOW I FEEL? I don't know how I ever felt anything before Chris Keller. I know what I felt, before; now - there's nothing there. It's air instead of smooth skin and hot breath on my neck. It's flames licking at the soles of my feet instead of warm hands and icy tingles.
Hell, I if know anything. I said something about poison and wanting to live. But it was a lie, something a “sane” person was supposed to say. I hate that he believed my lies when I never believed his. Not once. I knew he loved me, he forgave me. He did anything and everything for me, and if THAT isn't love, what is.
He flew away because he trusted me. He trusted that what I said - you killed my son, you're death - was the truth. He never realized that I was a better con than he had ever been, or could ever be.
I want to fly, too. Fly away or fall down and be with him again, then I'll have a life. That's why I'm here, right? Because I want to live and be with him and you call it dying? Fucking doctors. You're worse than lawyers. Arrogant bunch of pricks who think they know something. You don't know shit.
He's life. I'm death.
Kathy Rockwell, Genevieve Beecher, Gary Beecher, Karl Metzger, Andy Schillinger, Eli Zabitz, Hank Schillinger, Mondo Browne, Nate Shemin, Ronnie Barlog, Adam Guenzel, Harrison Beecher, Franklin Winthrop,Vern Schillinger, Chris Keller. I'm a goddamn serial killer with THAT butcher's bill. I don't see why you won't let me add just one more name to the list: Tobias Beecher.
Each one on me, either personally or via remote control. Point and click killer, that's me. The only one I didn't see coming was Chris. Wait, that's a lie. I saw it too late. I saw it in his eyes when he kissed me. It was just too late to tell him it was all bullshit, that in three weeks I'd give up any semblance of honor or sanity or pride and love him back, forgive him, just like I always did.
And he's in me. He's always been in me, leapt in like a stowaway the minute he saw me. I opened the door and said “Come inside,” then slammed it on his foot over and over. When he left, life left. Don't you understand??? He's IN me, tiny droplets of sweat and tears and cum and blood and piss and shit all in me. All lapped up, swallowed, inhaled. I WANT him in me, and no amount of tearing and clawing at my brain is going to get him out, so just leave me the fuck alone and let me fall. Look away, let me slip, like I let him slip, and all your problems are over.
He animated me! One foot landed in front of the other when Gary was taken only because of him. He kissed and fucked and burrowed his way inside of me to give me life and rage to go on. Then Gary died. He took it all away to keep me moving! He let me betray him so I could go on. He left thirty pieces of silver inside to make me chase him down. He gave me life when there was nothing left.
I'm not delusional. I was there, I know what happened. I remember every minute, every second of him. He was sent to me - heaven sent and hell bound - but he was for me, to keep me alive, to keep me sane, to keep me whole. He went to HELL for me, literally. Twice. He clawed his way out of Hell to come back to me. Has anyone ever done that for you? Faced Hell, felt the fire then come back, knowing he would have to face it again? Then you haven't known what love is. I have, and I can't live without it.
But I fucked it up and lied one too many times.
You say he was a sociopath? A fucking psychotic killer? Then what am I? His heart was pure, full of intention and instinct, he did what he was meant to do. Said and Sister Pete called him evil, said he would burn. I can feel him burning now, but he was never evil. Are angels evil?
Because that's what Chris Keller was, guardian angel made flesh. The left hand of God branded on his arm. He snapped my arms to protect me. No, it's NOT crazy. If Vern hadn't thought I was broken, I would have been dead. He sacrificed bits and pieces for me, let me tear and cut away parts of him to keep me safe. Gave me fucking bloody chunks of himself for my love. Risked death, damned his soul, all for me. Sent down for me. Just me.
And all he wanted was my love. Just love. He already had it, even when I taunted, tormented, fucking sliced into him, he had it. He had it when I cursed him, while I tried to cut his throat, when I let someone fuck me - inside me - where only he belonged.
I ripped his wings off, then he tried to fly. But he didn't care, it didn't matter, because he knew he wasn't going up. His was no sacrifice of redemption. He knew suicide would damn him forever, but I killed him. I was poison, not him. I was death. I was too late. I don't want to be late again.
He's calling me. I told you that before, Doctor. Told you he couldn't wait forever. I don't know why, but he's going to leave soon. I won't let him go again. He's IN me. I have to give him his wings back, get him back inside me.
So here's your fucking journal entry about my “feelings” that I don't feel. There's nothing left. I'm almost gone anyway. Don't blame yourself Doc, even God doesn't have the balls to stop me. Too bad I don't have wings, it's gonna be one hell of a fall.
Found among the personal effects of Tobias Beecher, 97B412, DOB 07/08/1964, DOD 04/02/2003
*
*
*
WARNING:
*
*
*
WARNING: Language, Suicide, Major Character Death.
Prescription For Forgetting by cmk419
Don’t forget me.
Never.
He retrieved the pills he’d been carefully hoarding since Doctor Nathan started dispensing them. He cited a lack of sleep as the reason for the twice-a-week visits to her office. He could have just as easily gotten a dosage from Sister Pete, but she could figure out what he was up to soon enough.
The memories were too much - everywhere he looked he saw Chris - lounging in the quad, strutting through the cafeteria, reaching for him in the laundry room. And everywhere here, since McManus decided to assign Toby to the first pod that he and Chris shared.
One pill for the moment Chris broke Mark Mack’s nose, one pill for the kiss in the laundry room, one pill for breaking his arms and legs, one pill for New Year’s Eve, one pill for going to Cedar Junction, and one for coming back. One pill for fucking with Toby’s parole.
Two left…
One for freeing Toby from Schillinger’s grasp.
One for freeing himself from Toby’s.
Toby closed his eyes - something that Chris didn’t have the opportunity to do - and drifted off into oblivion.
I Feel the Fall by cwitch
Title: I Feel The Fall
Author: cwitch
Fandom: Oz (tv)
Wordcount: 1140
Rating: R
Characters: Tobias Beecher, Chris Keller
Pairing(s): Beecher/Keller
Genre: Angst
Warning(s): Warnings are at the end of the story.
Contains: Spoilers for entire series, set post Season 6
Disclaimer: All characters used herein are the property of Fontana/Levinson and HBO. No copyright infringement intended. No profit shall be made; this is solely a work of the author's imagination.
Summary: A letter ... Written for Oz Graffixation Challenge on oz_graffiti
I really don't know what you want. Some sort of magnum opus on love in prison? Or maybe something cuter - are You There God, It's me, Toby? Maybe a simple “Dear Diary, today I had chicken nuggets for dinner and drove a knife through the chest of my enemy?”
Writing about any of this won't make it better, Doctor, won't make ME better. I'm done, gone, flew over that railing with him. I'll never be the same. I'll never be ME. There is no me anymore.
You want to know what I remember? How I feel? HOW I FEEL? I don't know how I ever felt anything before Chris Keller. I know what I felt, before; now - there's nothing there. It's air instead of smooth skin and hot breath on my neck. It's flames licking at the soles of my feet instead of warm hands and icy tingles.
Hell, I if know anything. I said something about poison and wanting to live. But it was a lie, something a “sane” person was supposed to say. I hate that he believed my lies when I never believed his. Not once. I knew he loved me, he forgave me. He did anything and everything for me, and if THAT isn't love, what is.
He flew away because he trusted me. He trusted that what I said - you killed my son, you're death - was the truth. He never realized that I was a better con than he had ever been, or could ever be.
I want to fly, too. Fly away or fall down and be with him again, then I'll have a life. That's why I'm here, right? Because I want to live and be with him and you call it dying? Fucking doctors. You're worse than lawyers. Arrogant bunch of pricks who think they know something. You don't know shit.
He's life. I'm death.
Kathy Rockwell, Genevieve Beecher, Gary Beecher, Karl Metzger, Andy Schillinger, Eli Zabitz, Hank Schillinger, Mondo Browne, Nate Shemin, Ronnie Barlog, Adam Guenzel, Harrison Beecher, Franklin Winthrop,Vern Schillinger, Chris Keller. I'm a goddamn serial killer with THAT butcher's bill. I don't see why you won't let me add just one more name to the list: Tobias Beecher.
Each one on me, either personally or via remote control. Point and click killer, that's me. The only one I didn't see coming was Chris. Wait, that's a lie. I saw it too late. I saw it in his eyes when he kissed me. It was just too late to tell him it was all bullshit, that in three weeks I'd give up any semblance of honor or sanity or pride and love him back, forgive him, just like I always did.
And he's in me. He's always been in me, leapt in like a stowaway the minute he saw me. I opened the door and said “Come inside,” then slammed it on his foot over and over. When he left, life left. Don't you understand??? He's IN me, tiny droplets of sweat and tears and cum and blood and piss and shit all in me. All lapped up, swallowed, inhaled. I WANT him in me, and no amount of tearing and clawing at my brain is going to get him out, so just leave me the fuck alone and let me fall. Look away, let me slip, like I let him slip, and all your problems are over.
He animated me! One foot landed in front of the other when Gary was taken only because of him. He kissed and fucked and burrowed his way inside of me to give me life and rage to go on. Then Gary died. He took it all away to keep me moving! He let me betray him so I could go on. He left thirty pieces of silver inside to make me chase him down. He gave me life when there was nothing left.
I'm not delusional. I was there, I know what happened. I remember every minute, every second of him. He was sent to me - heaven sent and hell bound - but he was for me, to keep me alive, to keep me sane, to keep me whole. He went to HELL for me, literally. Twice. He clawed his way out of Hell to come back to me. Has anyone ever done that for you? Faced Hell, felt the fire then come back, knowing he would have to face it again? Then you haven't known what love is. I have, and I can't live without it.
But I fucked it up and lied one too many times.
You say he was a sociopath? A fucking psychotic killer? Then what am I? His heart was pure, full of intention and instinct, he did what he was meant to do. Said and Sister Pete called him evil, said he would burn. I can feel him burning now, but he was never evil. Are angels evil?
Because that's what Chris Keller was, guardian angel made flesh. The left hand of God branded on his arm. He snapped my arms to protect me. No, it's NOT crazy. If Vern hadn't thought I was broken, I would have been dead. He sacrificed bits and pieces for me, let me tear and cut away parts of him to keep me safe. Gave me fucking bloody chunks of himself for my love. Risked death, damned his soul, all for me. Sent down for me. Just me.
And all he wanted was my love. Just love. He already had it, even when I taunted, tormented, fucking sliced into him, he had it. He had it when I cursed him, while I tried to cut his throat, when I let someone fuck me - inside me - where only he belonged.
I ripped his wings off, then he tried to fly. But he didn't care, it didn't matter, because he knew he wasn't going up. His was no sacrifice of redemption. He knew suicide would damn him forever, but I killed him. I was poison, not him. I was death. I was too late. I don't want to be late again.
He's calling me. I told you that before, Doctor. Told you he couldn't wait forever. I don't know why, but he's going to leave soon. I won't let him go again. He's IN me. I have to give him his wings back, get him back inside me.
So here's your fucking journal entry about my “feelings” that I don't feel. There's nothing left. I'm almost gone anyway. Don't blame yourself Doc, even God doesn't have the balls to stop me. Too bad I don't have wings, it's gonna be one hell of a fall.
Found among the personal effects of Tobias Beecher, 97B412, DOB 07/08/1964, DOD 04/02/2003
*
*
*
WARNING:
*
*
*
WARNING: Language, Suicide, Major Character Death.