Fic!!
Hey guys! I've been avoiding the comm for a little while until I got a chance to watch the last two eps (stupid college, Tuesdays are for Glee, not physics!) but I'm back now and wanted to share. I posted this on my personal journal a few days ago 'cause I wasn't sure about it, and I have in fact tweaked one word, so sorry to those who see it twice. Go fetch the tissues and enjoy!
Title: love of mine, someday you will die
Author: Nytegoddess
Rating: PG-13
Fandom/Pairing: Glee, mentioned Puck/Kurt
Warnings: Major character(s) death, angst, suggested hatecrime
Spoilers: None
Summary: A deathbed confession, forty years too soon.
Author’s Note: Inspired by Valerie’s Letter in ‘V For Vendetta’, I've kept parts of it and changed others. The original as read in the movie can be found here. I highly recommend watching it, it’s beautiful. Title and cut text from “Follow You Into The Dark” by Death Cab For Cutie.
Word Count: 423
The day of the memorial service dawns bright but cold, the summer sun trying to warm the autumn ground, and it seems like the cruelest twist of fate to have the town of Lima laying these two boys to rest in cold dirt. Dirt that says nothing of lazy days at the pool or carefree nights at the mall. Dirt that holds dark graves so unlike the well-lit stage they gathered on every Saturday.
The crowd is small but the grief is not, tears flowing freely over an unlikely collection of faces, regrets and remembrances stinging sharply as classmates and family members, separate yet indistinguishable from each other, rise and speak on the lives of the two, stolen from them by an anonymous group, anonymous hands, anonymous hate.
The words are winding down, the wind picking up, when a resiliently weeping blonde stands and faces her fellow mourners, one hand pressing habitually to her stomach, the other clutching a wrinkled sheet of paper.
“He wrote this just before-” She pauses and collects herself. “He wanted me to read it.”
There is no need to name which he she’s referring to. Only one lingered long enough to write anything before following the other into the dark. She clears her throat and meets the heartbroken gazes with her own as a dead boy’s words fill the air.
“I don’t think I’ll live much longer. I’m sad. Sad about all the things I’ll miss out on, things I’ll never get to do. Graduate. Sing at Nationals. Win a championship. Hold my daughter. Tell the truth.
“Someone once told me that being true was worth it all. That people sell their integrity for so little now, but it’s all we really have. That it’s the very last inch of us, but that within that inch, we were free.
“I remember the day he told me that. I think he knew, all along, what truth I was selling so cheaply. What I thought was so important to hide. So I told him. I showed him that inch. And I remember he smelled like roses.
“Some of you will be shocked, sickened, stunned, but I don’t care. He’s gone and I’m dying. Whatever you might object to about us is over now. But for three weeks, three wonderful, secret weeks, I sang with him, I laughed with him, I cried with him, and I kissed him. For three weeks, I loved him with every inch of me.
“For three weeks, I had roses. And I apologize to no one.”
fin
Title: love of mine, someday you will die
Author: Nytegoddess
Rating: PG-13
Fandom/Pairing: Glee, mentioned Puck/Kurt
Warnings: Major character(s) death, angst, suggested hatecrime
Spoilers: None
Summary: A deathbed confession, forty years too soon.
Author’s Note: Inspired by Valerie’s Letter in ‘V For Vendetta’, I've kept parts of it and changed others. The original as read in the movie can be found here. I highly recommend watching it, it’s beautiful. Title and cut text from “Follow You Into The Dark” by Death Cab For Cutie.
Word Count: 423
The day of the memorial service dawns bright but cold, the summer sun trying to warm the autumn ground, and it seems like the cruelest twist of fate to have the town of Lima laying these two boys to rest in cold dirt. Dirt that says nothing of lazy days at the pool or carefree nights at the mall. Dirt that holds dark graves so unlike the well-lit stage they gathered on every Saturday.
The crowd is small but the grief is not, tears flowing freely over an unlikely collection of faces, regrets and remembrances stinging sharply as classmates and family members, separate yet indistinguishable from each other, rise and speak on the lives of the two, stolen from them by an anonymous group, anonymous hands, anonymous hate.
The words are winding down, the wind picking up, when a resiliently weeping blonde stands and faces her fellow mourners, one hand pressing habitually to her stomach, the other clutching a wrinkled sheet of paper.
“He wrote this just before-” She pauses and collects herself. “He wanted me to read it.”
There is no need to name which he she’s referring to. Only one lingered long enough to write anything before following the other into the dark. She clears her throat and meets the heartbroken gazes with her own as a dead boy’s words fill the air.
“I don’t think I’ll live much longer. I’m sad. Sad about all the things I’ll miss out on, things I’ll never get to do. Graduate. Sing at Nationals. Win a championship. Hold my daughter. Tell the truth.
“Someone once told me that being true was worth it all. That people sell their integrity for so little now, but it’s all we really have. That it’s the very last inch of us, but that within that inch, we were free.
“I remember the day he told me that. I think he knew, all along, what truth I was selling so cheaply. What I thought was so important to hide. So I told him. I showed him that inch. And I remember he smelled like roses.
“Some of you will be shocked, sickened, stunned, but I don’t care. He’s gone and I’m dying. Whatever you might object to about us is over now. But for three weeks, three wonderful, secret weeks, I sang with him, I laughed with him, I cried with him, and I kissed him. For three weeks, I loved him with every inch of me.
“For three weeks, I had roses. And I apologize to no one.”
fin