kymburrlee
in
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Crying Helsinki~Chapter Three
Title: Crying Helsinki
Chapter: 3
Rating: G- PG-13 right now
Pairing: Vam
Summary: Based on the book The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. Ville was murdered but still he watches his loved ones as they grieve and the person who took him away from the world too soon.
Warnings: Character death...sorta.
Disclaimer: Don't own and the definatly did not happen.
Word Count: 1637
A/N: Yay! Chapter 3! And posted way before midnight. I'm on a roll. =p Anyway, the rating goes up in this one. Just a bit though. I plan on the rating going up more later so my readers who may not be members of the community can add my journal because I'll start posting this there, too.
I know I always seem to be the one asking this but...It's December...Huck Magazine soon? I hope. I think we all need a little inspiration. ;)
Introduction
First Day
The One Who Got Him There
Bags. Lots of bags of varying shapes. It takes me a while before I understand what I’m looking at.
“Holy shit.” I whisper and grab onto the freezer’s edge. My fingers dig into the ice that has formed on the sides though the ice does not crack and give way like it should. I can feel the cold because I know it’s supposed to be that way, but the ice doesn’t feel me.
Tim reaches in and picks up a bag. My legs tremble and my stomach lurches as I see what’s in the clear plastic bag. The silver rings I wear, the ones I see when I look down at my hands, now shine on the fingers of my physical hand. But that is all there is. A hand.
I jump when Tim speaks for the first time. “I really should have taken those off.” He says and runs his fingertips over the cold metal. “They would be good souvenirs. But what I got will do.”
My legs finally give out and I quickly crawl away on my hands and knees until I hit the wall. Still not far enough away. When I look back, he’s bent over, putting my hand back. Impulsively, I look down at my hands. They are shaking, but still attached.
The lid smacks shut and again I jump. With wide eyes I watch him from my curled position on the floor. He’s reaching behind the freezer. He lifts up a large shopping bag and empties the contents onto the flat surface of the freezer. It doesn’t take me long to recognize my clothes. He wraps one of the many black scarves I owned around his neck. He pulls my shirt from the pile and looks at it at arms length. It’s one Bam bought me. A gag gift. It’s black with a white man, exactly like those that you see on bathroom designation signs, except the circle that represents the head is considerably smaller than the body. Underneath it reads: “A little head never hurt anyone.” I look down again and see that is exactly the shirt I am still wearing. Wow, I’m surprised people have been as nice as they have. I usually don’t wear that out in public. Tim laughs but his mouth never moves into a smile. He lifts the fabric to his nose and takes a deep breath, smelling the cotton cloth before sighing. My body gives a shiver that has nothing to do with temperature.
He looks over the other clothes. He picks up a pair of pants and inspects the size tag. “He was so tiny. Such a shame, to be such a delicate man.” He says in a voice that just barely hints at wistfulness.
No more. I’m done. I squeeze my eyes shut and when I open them again I’m back up…here. Might as well call it Heaven. I’m still curled on my knees, my arms clutching my midsection to hold me together. “That was wrong.” I whimper and shake my head in disbelief. “So very wrong.”
“I’m guessing you found your body.” I jerk and look up to see Cora Beth just where I left her. She’s put the magazine on the table and is leaning forward with concern evident on her pretty face. I nod and choke back a sob. She hurries over and wraps her small arms around me then picks me up.
“Come now. Sit over here properly. You are okay. I’m here for you.” I collapse into the chair and suddenly telling her what I saw.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry! That’s horrid.” She says with her hand to her open mouth in shock.
“I don’t know what upsets me more…” I say, suddenly angry with a lit cigarette bouncing between my lips. “…that he cut me up or that he used such a cliché as a freezer. Fuckin’ CSI: Helsinki.” I mutter.
“What?” Cora Beth asks. I just wave my hand at her to say never mind. Sometimes the time span gets in the way.
“I’m going to go see Bam.” I say and stand, the chair screeching behind me.
“Remind me again; who is Bam?”
“My boyfriend.” I say with no hesitation. I know Cora Beth is not used to open homosexuality but I figure if I made it to Heaven with a boyfriend I shouldn’t hide it. And Cora Beth has been good about it.
“Okay, sweetie. Try not to let this bother you too much. It will work out eventually.” I nod but I just don’t quite believe anything will be all right now.
xXx
Bam is in bed when I go to him. Mige is placing the covers over him, which makes me think Mige had to carry him to bed after he fell asleep in the chair.
“Finally. He sleeps!” Mige exclaims softly and glances at the clock. 3:21a.m.
“Thank you, Mizze.” I say as he settles himself into the other bed.
I kneel down next to Bam’s bed so that I can look into his face. Even in sleep he looks pained. The corners of his moth are pulled down and his eyes are shut just a bit too tightly. This isn’t Bam. My Bam is carefree and always smiling. And he always looked so peaceful and uncharacteristically angelic in sleep.
“I’m so sorry I took that away from you.” I whisper guiltily. Without thought, I reach up and touch his face. I swear I can feel the warmth of his skin. I remember the feel….He shows no sign he can feel me. “If I had been stronger and more aware, I’d probably still be here.” Feeling brave, I palm his cheek, my fingers gently caressing at his hairline. He doesn’t move. “I’m sorry I failed you.” With that, I remove my hand and step back. I look up at the ceiling, but the heavens are my target.
“God dammit, why? Why, when I was happy after so long?” Looking back down at my lover I fight off tears. I crawl into bed and lay behind him. I wrap my arm around a waist that doesn’t feel me and lay my head upon his pillow. A pillow that does not mold to cradle me.
My mind wanders back to a time, 10 years ago today. I hadn’t known Bam long. A few months, perhaps, but we were as close as family. He had invited me to his town and on of the days I was there fell on Halloween. He hosted a party, telling everyone to come dressed as their favorite person.
Further proving that we sometimes thought on the same wavelength, we both chose that day to be truthful to one another.
He dressed as me from the Razorblade Romance cover. He went all out. Fur coat, leather pants, pink eyeshadow and lipstick. He even had a local tattoo artist temporarily draw on all of my tattoos at the time. He looked amazing.
I came dressed as him. I drowned in an oversized t-shirt, baggy pants and thick skater shoes. I carried a skateboard I had nicked from Bam’s garage and even went as far as drawing a mole on my right cheek near my nose. I remembered exactly where it was. I didn’t know if he knew, but I studied his face often.
When I walked in and we saw each other I think it was obvious to everyone what had just silently taken place. Both of us broke out into goofy grins and we’ve been inseparable since. Well, almost. But that’s a story for another day.
We ended up spending a majority of the party in a corner just talking. The crowd thinned out as the night went on but we paid no attention.
“Nice work on the sleeve.” I commented and reached out to touch it, my hand running up and down the length of his arm. I smiled when he shivered.
“Yeah, they did a really good job.” He said softly. I remember he looked nervous suddenly. “Watch.” He said and lifted his hand to his mouth. I cocked my eyebrow at him when he stuck his thumb in his mouth but instead of it turning sexual, he quickly took it out and ran it down his bicep. The ink smudged. No surprise. He did the same to the “S” around his nipple and the heart on his wrist.
“Yes, they are temporary. I knew that.” I told him. He stood and faced me, the ink on his lower stomach much more noticeable now that he was standing.
“Look closely.” He said. I leaned forward, aware of how close I was to his crotch but pretending I didn’t notice. My eyes narrowed at the design. It was rather shiny like there was something on it and it seemed a bit swollen.
“You allergic to that stuff they used?” I asked and he shook his head. Then I realized. “Oh my god, you got my tattoo!” He had nodded sheepishly.
“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind…”
“Not at all.” I said and stood up to hug him, a huge smile on my face. It was at that moment I had realized he was in this for real. Whether we were just friends or lovers, he had no intention of ever forgetting me.
In the last moments of dark, before the sun begins to rise over Helsinki, I lay with the love I left behind. I can be with him but it’s not enough when he doesn’t know. I breathe in the scent of his hair and kiss the back of his neck. Not a hair moves out of place as I exhale.
“Happy anniversary, Bammie.” I say sadly and listen to the fragile life in my love as his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes.
xXx
A/N: I'm not entirely sure which of Ville's tattoos Bam got first but...this is my story, right? =)
Comments are love!
Chapter: 3
Rating: G- PG-13 right now
Pairing: Vam
Summary: Based on the book The Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold. Ville was murdered but still he watches his loved ones as they grieve and the person who took him away from the world too soon.
Warnings: Character death...sorta.
Disclaimer: Don't own and the definatly did not happen.
Word Count: 1637
A/N: Yay! Chapter 3! And posted way before midnight. I'm on a roll. =p Anyway, the rating goes up in this one. Just a bit though. I plan on the rating going up more later so my readers who may not be members of the community can add my journal because I'll start posting this there, too.
I know I always seem to be the one asking this but...It's December...Huck Magazine soon? I hope. I think we all need a little inspiration. ;)
Introduction
First Day
The One Who Got Him There
Bags. Lots of bags of varying shapes. It takes me a while before I understand what I’m looking at.
“Holy shit.” I whisper and grab onto the freezer’s edge. My fingers dig into the ice that has formed on the sides though the ice does not crack and give way like it should. I can feel the cold because I know it’s supposed to be that way, but the ice doesn’t feel me.
Tim reaches in and picks up a bag. My legs tremble and my stomach lurches as I see what’s in the clear plastic bag. The silver rings I wear, the ones I see when I look down at my hands, now shine on the fingers of my physical hand. But that is all there is. A hand.
I jump when Tim speaks for the first time. “I really should have taken those off.” He says and runs his fingertips over the cold metal. “They would be good souvenirs. But what I got will do.”
My legs finally give out and I quickly crawl away on my hands and knees until I hit the wall. Still not far enough away. When I look back, he’s bent over, putting my hand back. Impulsively, I look down at my hands. They are shaking, but still attached.
The lid smacks shut and again I jump. With wide eyes I watch him from my curled position on the floor. He’s reaching behind the freezer. He lifts up a large shopping bag and empties the contents onto the flat surface of the freezer. It doesn’t take me long to recognize my clothes. He wraps one of the many black scarves I owned around his neck. He pulls my shirt from the pile and looks at it at arms length. It’s one Bam bought me. A gag gift. It’s black with a white man, exactly like those that you see on bathroom designation signs, except the circle that represents the head is considerably smaller than the body. Underneath it reads: “A little head never hurt anyone.” I look down again and see that is exactly the shirt I am still wearing. Wow, I’m surprised people have been as nice as they have. I usually don’t wear that out in public. Tim laughs but his mouth never moves into a smile. He lifts the fabric to his nose and takes a deep breath, smelling the cotton cloth before sighing. My body gives a shiver that has nothing to do with temperature.
He looks over the other clothes. He picks up a pair of pants and inspects the size tag. “He was so tiny. Such a shame, to be such a delicate man.” He says in a voice that just barely hints at wistfulness.
No more. I’m done. I squeeze my eyes shut and when I open them again I’m back up…here. Might as well call it Heaven. I’m still curled on my knees, my arms clutching my midsection to hold me together. “That was wrong.” I whimper and shake my head in disbelief. “So very wrong.”
“I’m guessing you found your body.” I jerk and look up to see Cora Beth just where I left her. She’s put the magazine on the table and is leaning forward with concern evident on her pretty face. I nod and choke back a sob. She hurries over and wraps her small arms around me then picks me up.
“Come now. Sit over here properly. You are okay. I’m here for you.” I collapse into the chair and suddenly telling her what I saw.
“Oh, sweetie, I’m sorry! That’s horrid.” She says with her hand to her open mouth in shock.
“I don’t know what upsets me more…” I say, suddenly angry with a lit cigarette bouncing between my lips. “…that he cut me up or that he used such a cliché as a freezer. Fuckin’ CSI: Helsinki.” I mutter.
“What?” Cora Beth asks. I just wave my hand at her to say never mind. Sometimes the time span gets in the way.
“I’m going to go see Bam.” I say and stand, the chair screeching behind me.
“Remind me again; who is Bam?”
“My boyfriend.” I say with no hesitation. I know Cora Beth is not used to open homosexuality but I figure if I made it to Heaven with a boyfriend I shouldn’t hide it. And Cora Beth has been good about it.
“Okay, sweetie. Try not to let this bother you too much. It will work out eventually.” I nod but I just don’t quite believe anything will be all right now.
xXx
Bam is in bed when I go to him. Mige is placing the covers over him, which makes me think Mige had to carry him to bed after he fell asleep in the chair.
“Finally. He sleeps!” Mige exclaims softly and glances at the clock. 3:21a.m.
“Thank you, Mizze.” I say as he settles himself into the other bed.
I kneel down next to Bam’s bed so that I can look into his face. Even in sleep he looks pained. The corners of his moth are pulled down and his eyes are shut just a bit too tightly. This isn’t Bam. My Bam is carefree and always smiling. And he always looked so peaceful and uncharacteristically angelic in sleep.
“I’m so sorry I took that away from you.” I whisper guiltily. Without thought, I reach up and touch his face. I swear I can feel the warmth of his skin. I remember the feel….He shows no sign he can feel me. “If I had been stronger and more aware, I’d probably still be here.” Feeling brave, I palm his cheek, my fingers gently caressing at his hairline. He doesn’t move. “I’m sorry I failed you.” With that, I remove my hand and step back. I look up at the ceiling, but the heavens are my target.
“God dammit, why? Why, when I was happy after so long?” Looking back down at my lover I fight off tears. I crawl into bed and lay behind him. I wrap my arm around a waist that doesn’t feel me and lay my head upon his pillow. A pillow that does not mold to cradle me.
My mind wanders back to a time, 10 years ago today. I hadn’t known Bam long. A few months, perhaps, but we were as close as family. He had invited me to his town and on of the days I was there fell on Halloween. He hosted a party, telling everyone to come dressed as their favorite person.
Further proving that we sometimes thought on the same wavelength, we both chose that day to be truthful to one another.
He dressed as me from the Razorblade Romance cover. He went all out. Fur coat, leather pants, pink eyeshadow and lipstick. He even had a local tattoo artist temporarily draw on all of my tattoos at the time. He looked amazing.
I came dressed as him. I drowned in an oversized t-shirt, baggy pants and thick skater shoes. I carried a skateboard I had nicked from Bam’s garage and even went as far as drawing a mole on my right cheek near my nose. I remembered exactly where it was. I didn’t know if he knew, but I studied his face often.
When I walked in and we saw each other I think it was obvious to everyone what had just silently taken place. Both of us broke out into goofy grins and we’ve been inseparable since. Well, almost. But that’s a story for another day.
We ended up spending a majority of the party in a corner just talking. The crowd thinned out as the night went on but we paid no attention.
“Nice work on the sleeve.” I commented and reached out to touch it, my hand running up and down the length of his arm. I smiled when he shivered.
“Yeah, they did a really good job.” He said softly. I remember he looked nervous suddenly. “Watch.” He said and lifted his hand to his mouth. I cocked my eyebrow at him when he stuck his thumb in his mouth but instead of it turning sexual, he quickly took it out and ran it down his bicep. The ink smudged. No surprise. He did the same to the “S” around his nipple and the heart on his wrist.
“Yes, they are temporary. I knew that.” I told him. He stood and faced me, the ink on his lower stomach much more noticeable now that he was standing.
“Look closely.” He said. I leaned forward, aware of how close I was to his crotch but pretending I didn’t notice. My eyes narrowed at the design. It was rather shiny like there was something on it and it seemed a bit swollen.
“You allergic to that stuff they used?” I asked and he shook his head. Then I realized. “Oh my god, you got my tattoo!” He had nodded sheepishly.
“Yeah, I hope you don’t mind…”
“Not at all.” I said and stood up to hug him, a huge smile on my face. It was at that moment I had realized he was in this for real. Whether we were just friends or lovers, he had no intention of ever forgetting me.
In the last moments of dark, before the sun begins to rise over Helsinki, I lay with the love I left behind. I can be with him but it’s not enough when he doesn’t know. I breathe in the scent of his hair and kiss the back of his neck. Not a hair moves out of place as I exhale.
“Happy anniversary, Bammie.” I say sadly and listen to the fragile life in my love as his chest rises and falls with each breath he takes.
xXx
A/N: I'm not entirely sure which of Ville's tattoos Bam got first but...this is my story, right? =)
Comments are love!