Breathe Until Tomorrow [1/1]
Title: Breathe Until Tomorrow
Author:
shiek_2
Pairing: Pierre/David
Rating: PG
POV: Pierre's
Summary: "On the bridge ledge is a boy."
Disclaimer: They're all locked in my imaginary basement, including Patrick. I don't own anything and this never happened.
Author's Note: This is my first Simple Plan 'fic, first post to this community, first Pierre/David. Concrit and feedback is greatly appreciated and loved! :)
The lapping waves slapping against the bridge lulled me into a peaceful daze. The whirr of cars surrounded me. Sounds of pop songs on the radio played softly in the background, singing sweetly, seemingly a lullaby. Traffic was moving forward fluidly. I had a smile on my face as the song ended and the latest celebrity gossip filled my car, glad I wasn’t on display for the world to judge. All in all I’d had an ordinary at my dull desk job. Of course I was excited for the weekend, but why complain about my job? It pays the bills.
Suddenly the car in front of me comes to a screeching halt, tires squealing. I slam on my brakes and come to a short stop, narrowly avoiding smacking into the car’s bumper. I wrench open my door angrily, ready to scream and curse at the driver for being so idiotic. Before I can a woman lets out a loud scream. I whip around, searching for the source of her terror.
All the anger immediately disappears from my body. My stomach drops and cold fear washes throughout me. On the bridge ledge is a boy.
He seems to be younger than I am with jet black hair. That’s all I can make out, he has his back turned to me. He looks ready to jump, to leave all the sorrows in his life behind. I can tell he’s having second thoughts as he hasn’t attempted to take the final leap yet.
The commuters and I watch in shock as he pulls out a folded piece of paper, seemingly frozen to the spot in horror. He reads over what is written there, lightly running his fingers over the words, before shoving it back in his pocket angrily. That seems to be all the resolve he needs. He bends his knees and prepares for his fall into the watery depths below.
I look around. Everyone’s watching on in stunned silence. Some are too horrified to moved, wanting to help but will watch the young boy die and hate themselves for it. Others are simply watching, it’ll be a nice story to tell the kids someday or a nice addition to their collection of emotional battle scars.
No ones going to help him, I realize, they’re all going to let him die. A horrible death, leaping into the abyss all alone.
“Wait! Don’t jump!” The words spill from my mouth and I run towards him, my body seemingly developed a will of its own.
“What?” He says softly, straightening.
Inwardly I sigh in relief, glad that I’ve delayed and quite possibly stopped his attempted suicide. The distance between us seems endless. I’m running as fast as I can but I can’t reach him.
“Don’t do it.” I repeat breathlessly, finally reaching him.
“Why not? I deserve to die don’t I?” He chuckles darkly, turning to face me.
My breath catches in my throat as I’m finally able to see his features.
He’s shorter and much smaller than I am. Pale skin that begs to be touched and caressed blankets his thin frame. Pained caramel eyes glare at me, saltine drops falling from them, freely streaking down his cheeks. His eyeliners smeared, running black mixing with the crystalline liquid.
He’s simply beautiful; the portrait of perfection. How can someone so flawlessly beautiful want to die?
“You don’t deserve to die.” I breathe quietly. I’m not sure he heard me, I barely heard me, but apparently he did since he’s opening his mouth.
“Yes I do! Just, just go away! You don’t know anything!” He screams, pulling at his hair in frustration.
“Hey! Calm down, okay? I’m just trying to help you.” I tell him stepping closer.
Fear flashes through caramel pools and he moves away, watchful of the ledge. Strange, moments ago he was dead set on killing himself. I hold my hands up in surrender to show I’m not going to hurt him or force him off the ledge.
“What’s your name?” I ask. He regards me carefully before answering.
“David.”
“I’m Pierre. Nice to meet you, David.” I smile.
His lips twitch slightly. Then he remembers he’s not talking to some friendly passerby on the sidewalk, he’s high above the ground on the ledge of a bridge.
“Why are you here?” He asks softly, tilting his head to the side slightly in curiosity. His fingernails claw at his arms in nervousness.
“I want to help you.”
“Why would you want to help me?”
“Because no one deserves to die, David.”
“Well I do.”
“Why’re you up here?”
“Because I deserve to die.” I sigh in frustration.
“Okay, why do you deserve to die?”
This seems to be the wrong question to ask. He bites on his bottom lip, hard, and chews on it softly. His right hand moves to scratch at his left arm in anxiety. Finally his eyes are hidden behind a curtain of black. I hear him murmur something softly.
“David?”
“Because I’m gay okay?!” He yells, “I’m an abomination.” He finishes quietly.
I take a tentative step onto the ledge, scared that I’ll frighten him. When he doesn’t react, I pull my whole body up onto the ledge. I inch closer to him, carefully gauging his reaction. Soon I’m standing beside him. Putting my fingertips underneath his chin, I gently raise his head to face me. He avoids my gaze, frantically searching for something else to focus on besides me.
“David look at me,” He does, “You’re not an abomination.” I tell him softly.
“Yes I am! If I wasn’t then my friends wouldn’t hate me and my family would still love me.” His eyes squeeze shut and more tears spill onto his cheeks. I smile sadly and wipe them away gently.
“They’re wrong Davey.” His eyes snap open at the nickname. “I’m gay. Am I an abomination?” I continue, ignoring his shocked stare.
“I-I-…n-no.”
“Then why are you one?”
“Because I’m worthless, ugly! That’s what my father said.” He whispers brokenly.
“You know that’s not true. You’re perfect.” I state firmly.
“I’m nowhere near perfect. If I was I wouldn’t be here would I?”
“This is just a small mistake, Davey. You’ve gotta pick yourself up and move on.”
“Small? Trying to kill yourself is a small mistake? Damn, I’ve gotta try harder.” He chuckles.
“Well it’ll be a great story to tell your kids.” I laugh.
“Yeah, that wouldn’t traumatize them at all. ‘Hey kids, let me tell you of the time this hot stranger saved my life.’ That should go over very well.”
“I’m the hot stranger now?” He nods. We both burst into laughter.
It’s strange. It seems like it happened a lifetime ago, but in all actuality David was attempting suicide a few moments ago. But here we are now, joking around like we’re old friends who haven’t seen each other in years. It all seems so surreal, too good to be true. I mean, who knew I could save some kid from killing himself? I would’ve pegged myself as being one of the onlookers, unable to move to help. But there was just something about David that pulled me in and gave me warmth and content, something I didn’t want to let go of.
A loud wailing siren breaks through the air. Someone must have called the police. The next thing I know some balding cop is shouting through a megaphone at us.
“You two! Please step away from the ledge. Don’t jump.”
Everything happens in slow motion. David jumps in surprise. His foot twists and he loses his footing. I watch in horror as he falls back slowly, a loud scream tearing from his throat. It registers somewhere in the back of my mind I should catch him, grab onto him. My right hand shoots out, reaching and grasping, and nears his wrist. I close my fist, but it only closes around air. I watch as he falls off the ledge.
“David!!” I scream, expecting to see his body falling into the water below.
“Pierre! Quit screaming and help me up! Quick! I don’t know how long I can hold on.” I hear him tell me. Then I see him. He’s managed to grasp onto the ledge with his left hand, the rest of his body dangling in the air, his life hanging by a thread.
“David!” I yell happily.
“Yes! Now please help me up! I’m slipping!” He shouts at me. I reach my hand towards him.
“Take my hand!” I say.
Doubt flashes through his eyes. He bites down on his bottom lip, worrying it softly. I shake my hand for emphasis, knowing he can’t hold on forever and this really isn’t the time to be debating. I knew he’d choose life over death. Or at least I thought he would. I’ve only known David for minutes but those minutes seemed to stretch on into forever, and it feels like I know everything about him yet nothing at the same time. I really wanted to get to know him better.
“David!”
His small fingers wrap around my hand, soon joined by the other set. Groaning, I use all my strength to pull him up onto the ledge. As soon as he’s back on the solid concrete he’s grabbing onto me, launching himself into my arms and burying his face in my chest.
I don’t mind. I simply hold him close against me. His shoulders begin shaking with sobs as I feel tears stream down my cheeks as well. I don’t know whether his tears are of fear, joy, or relief, I’m just glad he’s alive.
Suddenly we both start laughing, I don’t think either one of us knows what the other is laughing at, but we continue laughing. We probably look like lunatics to the onlookers, who’ve remained surprisingly silent. Eventually our laughter dies down and we just sit in silence, holding each other close.
“Hey, David?”
“Yeah, Pierre?”
“You scream like a girl.”