Death Smiles at Us All; All Man Can Do is Smile Back
Title is from the Gladiator, by Maximus
Danny sat munching on roasted scorpions, the toxins inside it adding a delicious bite that no living person could enjoy. He sipped at his arachnid infused beer, the funeral going through his head, waiting for Meka to join him.
He had been happy that Steve, Kono, and Chin had gone to show their respects, honored that they would come to support him. He’d been even happier when Steve had said “I know you.” It’d just proved that Steve had finally understood what it was to be in a partnership, especially with him.
It was an even greater balm to the wounds so recently torn open, Steve not believing in him, Meka’s Death, the rampant disloyalty in the HPD, the corruption. He ran a hand through his hair and let out an explosive sigh, tired and solemn, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
When he turned he couldn’t help frowning at the red dripping down the front of Meka’s shirt before he looked into sad brown eyes. He smiled at his partner and waved at the burn victim bar tender for a round for him.
“It’s no Longboard, but I’m sure you’ll realize your tastes aren’t exactly the same as before you died,” he nodded at the bottle, “It my favorite beer here, though you might want to try something else.” He grinned wryly at the look Meka gave the bottle, eyeing it as if it were poison.
“You’re dead, brah,” the native Hawaiian shot a surprised look at Danny, “not much can hurt you now. And yes, I picked up a word or three, even a turn of phrase, so sue me.”
“Just wasn’t something I was expecting, from you Jersey, you being so adamant about not conforming to the island and all.” He took a small sip of the brew in front of him, surprised at its good taste when he heard a crunch and looked at what Danny was eating, “Are you eating scorpions? Aren’t those poisonous?”
Danny rolled his eyes, “Meka, you’re dead, drinking a beer made with spiders and I came from your funeral three hours ago. I’m here amongst the dead with you, bearing no ill effects, while having eaten at least five of these before you showed up. Do you think they bother me?”
Meka thought about that, “. . . No? And how are you here anyways?”
Danny shrugged at him, “It’s a family thing. I’ve eaten stuff like this all my life, and while it is harmful for living people, people like my family and I enjoy them. Like the Addams Family.” He looked at his friend, “How are you holding up? I’m sure it’s been hell, not being able to set everything straight, no matter how loud you yelled.”
Meka glared at his friend, “It has. A family thing, huh? That’s all you’re going to give me about being the only person to hear me screaming and shouting at that prick for shooting me? That Traitor? God,” he turned to look at his beer gripping it so tightly his grey skin turned white, “I left Amy and Billy by themselves, just because I realized Kaleo was the fucking mole, because I had to find proof.”
Danny gripped his shoulder hard.
“Don’t, Meka. Don’t put yourself through the what if’s and why’s. It’ll just drive you crazy and being dead does that to more people than it really should,” he forcefully turned the man to face him, intense blue eyes pinning brown, unmoving, “You’re here, in the afterlife, and you can start a life here too. Maybe even plan for when Amy comes, maybe find someone else, or get strong enough to protect them even in death.” He gripped the back of Meka’s neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched, “You can watch over them from here and I’ll watch over them there. You are my friend, a brother, that makes them my Ohana as much as you are. You did the right thing, don’t doubt that. It was Kaleo that did this. You were just being the good, moral, person you always have been. You can’t doubt that, you can’t doubt yourself, alright brother?”
Meka held his eyes as Danny told him this, the façade of strength slipping until his eyes were closed and he had his head buried in Danny’s shoulder, arms wrapped tight across broad shoulders and hands clenched into fists in his shirt.
Danny held Meka, his own tears slipping silently down his cheeks. His was grief finally coming to the fore, instead of being beaten down by anger and distrust.
His friend was dead. They could no longer go for drinks and talk about their families as if they weren’t partners anymore. He couldn’t come over for dinner and a game with Meka and Billy as Amy watched them with an indulgent smile on her face. He had to help Amy with Billy, where it should be Meka, show him how and what kind of man to be. A son was growing up without his father; a wife was without her husband.
He still had his friend.
He cried for the loss they’d feel and how cheap and horrible he felt at being the only one to see him now, in his existence here in the Fade.
This grey world was something he would never give up despite the pain it sometimes caused, the feeling that he was somehow getting a chance no one else had. It allowed him to keep his friends and family, no matter their status.
Sometimes, it was still almost too painful, too fresh and raw, to see them again, despite the need to do it anyway.
It never made a difference.
Danny sat munching on roasted scorpions, the toxins inside it adding a delicious bite that no living person could enjoy. He sipped at his arachnid infused beer, the funeral going through his head, waiting for Meka to join him.
He had been happy that Steve, Kono, and Chin had gone to show their respects, honored that they would come to support him. He’d been even happier when Steve had said “I know you.” It’d just proved that Steve had finally understood what it was to be in a partnership, especially with him.
It was an even greater balm to the wounds so recently torn open, Steve not believing in him, Meka’s Death, the rampant disloyalty in the HPD, the corruption. He ran a hand through his hair and let out an explosive sigh, tired and solemn, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
When he turned he couldn’t help frowning at the red dripping down the front of Meka’s shirt before he looked into sad brown eyes. He smiled at his partner and waved at the burn victim bar tender for a round for him.
“It’s no Longboard, but I’m sure you’ll realize your tastes aren’t exactly the same as before you died,” he nodded at the bottle, “It my favorite beer here, though you might want to try something else.” He grinned wryly at the look Meka gave the bottle, eyeing it as if it were poison.
“You’re dead, brah,” the native Hawaiian shot a surprised look at Danny, “not much can hurt you now. And yes, I picked up a word or three, even a turn of phrase, so sue me.”
“Just wasn’t something I was expecting, from you Jersey, you being so adamant about not conforming to the island and all.” He took a small sip of the brew in front of him, surprised at its good taste when he heard a crunch and looked at what Danny was eating, “Are you eating scorpions? Aren’t those poisonous?”
Danny rolled his eyes, “Meka, you’re dead, drinking a beer made with spiders and I came from your funeral three hours ago. I’m here amongst the dead with you, bearing no ill effects, while having eaten at least five of these before you showed up. Do you think they bother me?”
Meka thought about that, “. . . No? And how are you here anyways?”
Danny shrugged at him, “It’s a family thing. I’ve eaten stuff like this all my life, and while it is harmful for living people, people like my family and I enjoy them. Like the Addams Family.” He looked at his friend, “How are you holding up? I’m sure it’s been hell, not being able to set everything straight, no matter how loud you yelled.”
Meka glared at his friend, “It has. A family thing, huh? That’s all you’re going to give me about being the only person to hear me screaming and shouting at that prick for shooting me? That Traitor? God,” he turned to look at his beer gripping it so tightly his grey skin turned white, “I left Amy and Billy by themselves, just because I realized Kaleo was the fucking mole, because I had to find proof.”
Danny gripped his shoulder hard.
“Don’t, Meka. Don’t put yourself through the what if’s and why’s. It’ll just drive you crazy and being dead does that to more people than it really should,” he forcefully turned the man to face him, intense blue eyes pinning brown, unmoving, “You’re here, in the afterlife, and you can start a life here too. Maybe even plan for when Amy comes, maybe find someone else, or get strong enough to protect them even in death.” He gripped the back of Meka’s neck and pulled him forward until their foreheads touched, “You can watch over them from here and I’ll watch over them there. You are my friend, a brother, that makes them my Ohana as much as you are. You did the right thing, don’t doubt that. It was Kaleo that did this. You were just being the good, moral, person you always have been. You can’t doubt that, you can’t doubt yourself, alright brother?”
Meka held his eyes as Danny told him this, the façade of strength slipping until his eyes were closed and he had his head buried in Danny’s shoulder, arms wrapped tight across broad shoulders and hands clenched into fists in his shirt.
Danny held Meka, his own tears slipping silently down his cheeks. His was grief finally coming to the fore, instead of being beaten down by anger and distrust.
His friend was dead. They could no longer go for drinks and talk about their families as if they weren’t partners anymore. He couldn’t come over for dinner and a game with Meka and Billy as Amy watched them with an indulgent smile on her face. He had to help Amy with Billy, where it should be Meka, show him how and what kind of man to be. A son was growing up without his father; a wife was without her husband.
He still had his friend.
He cried for the loss they’d feel and how cheap and horrible he felt at being the only one to see him now, in his existence here in the Fade.
This grey world was something he would never give up despite the pain it sometimes caused, the feeling that he was somehow getting a chance no one else had. It allowed him to keep his friends and family, no matter their status.
Sometimes, it was still almost too painful, too fresh and raw, to see them again, despite the need to do it anyway.
It never made a difference.