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Sep. 2nd, 2007 08:52 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
piratekitten.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
nickngregTitle: Never Forgotten
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death, angst
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, and only playing
Summary: Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean they’re not still with us.
No one noticed as the door to that particular room swung open then shut as if by an unseen hand. Even if anyone had, they’d just smile and think that finally, someone was greeting their poor, forgotten patient.
The patient noticed though. The first hint of a smile not seen in months, if not years, tugged at the corners of the man’s mouth at the sight of those eyes. There was no forgetting those eyes.
“You came.” The patient’s voice was rough, ill-used in his forgotten state. All his other friends had stopped visiting ages ago, and his family had finally given up only a couple months ago, leaving him all alone in the world. And no one knew why.
“I promised, didn’t I?” The other’s voice was still the same as ever, somewhere between smug and amused. “I told you I would.” The smirk was still the same too. Still cocky.
Even the collapse onto the bed was the same. For a moment, the patient could almost picture them together like they used to. Before that. The smile that was beginning to form on his face faded.
Blood. So much blood. His mind screaming that there was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do with that much blood.
The other sighed, as if the thought were a picture visible in the air, but the smile never faded. “You need to stop blaming yourself.”
“Too much blood,” the patient breathed, reaching a hand out as if to touch his visitor but stopped just short. “Too much blood…”
“Accident,” the other stated firmly, as if the power of their will could force him to believe the truth.
The patient, however, wasn’t listening. Couldn’t listen. No one else knew why he wouldn’t speak for so long. No one else had held that body so closely until the warmth seeped away. No one knew. No one understood.
“No one understood…” The patient heard his thoughts spoken aloud and realized it was himself talking again. He was saying more now than he’d said in forever. As if it hadn’t happened.
The other stood, limbs coming in. With the long legs, it should have looked awkward but it didn’t. It never had. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”
They turned to the door and for a second, the patient thought he saw a dark robe and cowl swirl and a scythe in their hand. But it was gone in a flash and there was just the other standing there, those eyes - those brown eyes - staring into his soul.
“You coming?” A hand reached out, and again, there seemed to be the imposed image of the dark robe falling over the pale fingers. But the image was banished just as soon as the patient reached his own hand out to take the offered hand.
He stopped inches away though, one last thought still on his mind. “Did it hurt?”
“Dying?” The smile shifted to a grin he knew equally well. “Sometimes it’s painless. Mine was, despite everything.”
So much blood.
“Mine?” The patient whispered, hand wavering. He desperately wanted to touch that hand again. Desperately wondered if it would be warm like he remembered before it or cold like after. But he had to know.
“Yours will be quick. Promise, Boss.” The fingers wiggled reassuringly and the patient closed the distance. The fingers below his were cold, but yet, at the same time warm. It was an odd sensation and part of him relished it. The other moved as if remembering, lifting his hand to their lips and kissing the knuckles. Their lips, like their fingers, were cool yet warm. Again, an odd sensation. “C’mon then.”
The patient felt himself rise and slowly, as if he were re-learning how to walk, followed the other out the door.
---
The nurse was young, much too young to have seen a lot of death in her profession, but she enjoyed her job. She especially enjoyed visiting with the patients she was assigned to. There was one, though, she felt sorry for.
From his chart and the people that had visited him before they‘d stopped, she could gather that he’d held a dying coworker and the trauma had triggered a breakdown. Post traumatic stress, or something like that. Being a hopeless romantic, though, she’d decided shortly after he’d come under her care that whoever this coworker was, they must have meant a lot to him.
The nurse was in a good mood today, and wanted to spread some of her cheer with the patients she took care of and her special patient in particular.
“It’s a beautiful morning today, Mr. Stokes,” she greeted happily as she opened the door, and paused on the threshold. Her patient was asleep. And he wasn’t alone.
The man sitting in a chair facing her patient was dressed all in black, which almost seemed to compliment his pale skin. For a moment, she almost thought he looked like a Grim Reaper, although she’d always thought they wore their faces covered by hoods. And they certainly didn’t grin with near perfect teeth or have brown hair with blond highlights. Or wear sneakers. To be honest, even though she thought he looked a bit like a Reaper in his getup, the romantic in her thought he almost looked angelic. Although, as she noticed when her patient’s guest turned his head to look in her direction, she’d never heard of an angel that wore eyeliner.
Seeing that grin turned toward her made her heart skip a beat and she took a step back. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Mr. Stokes had company, Mr..”
The stranger pushed himself out of his chair, glancing back at the sleeping man. “Greg’ll do.”
His gaze came back to the nurse, and for another moment, she couldn’t help but stare at him. Finally, she composed herself to ask, “Did you want me to come back later?”
Greg’s grin never faded. “I was just leaving.” He brushed past her and she shivered, despite the warmth of the room.
She turned to watch him leave, but he was nowhere in sight. “That’s odd,” she murmured, shaking her head and turning back to the room before her. Even with that, her good mood was still there as she moved to her patient.
The nurse reached out to gently shake her patient’s shoulder, but froze. Even through his clothes, her patient was cool to the touch. As she sat down carefully on the bed, staring silently at the patient and knowing she’d have to get a doctor to pronounce him dead, even if it was clear he was, she realized two things at once.
The first was that, although his eyes were closed, he was smiling as if he’d seen the love of his life just moments before.
The second was, despite the flooring that seemed to make every footstep heard, she’d never heard Greg’s sneakers as he’d left the room.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Character death, angst
Disclaimer: Don’t own them, and only playing
Summary: Just because they’re gone doesn’t mean they’re not still with us.
No one noticed as the door to that particular room swung open then shut as if by an unseen hand. Even if anyone had, they’d just smile and think that finally, someone was greeting their poor, forgotten patient.
The patient noticed though. The first hint of a smile not seen in months, if not years, tugged at the corners of the man’s mouth at the sight of those eyes. There was no forgetting those eyes.
“You came.” The patient’s voice was rough, ill-used in his forgotten state. All his other friends had stopped visiting ages ago, and his family had finally given up only a couple months ago, leaving him all alone in the world. And no one knew why.
“I promised, didn’t I?” The other’s voice was still the same as ever, somewhere between smug and amused. “I told you I would.” The smirk was still the same too. Still cocky.
Even the collapse onto the bed was the same. For a moment, the patient could almost picture them together like they used to. Before that. The smile that was beginning to form on his face faded.
Blood. So much blood. His mind screaming that there was nothing he could do. Nothing anyone could do with that much blood.
The other sighed, as if the thought were a picture visible in the air, but the smile never faded. “You need to stop blaming yourself.”
“Too much blood,” the patient breathed, reaching a hand out as if to touch his visitor but stopped just short. “Too much blood…”
“Accident,” the other stated firmly, as if the power of their will could force him to believe the truth.
The patient, however, wasn’t listening. Couldn’t listen. No one else knew why he wouldn’t speak for so long. No one else had held that body so closely until the warmth seeped away. No one knew. No one understood.
“No one understood…” The patient heard his thoughts spoken aloud and realized it was himself talking again. He was saying more now than he’d said in forever. As if it hadn’t happened.
The other stood, limbs coming in. With the long legs, it should have looked awkward but it didn’t. It never had. “Doesn’t matter now, does it?”
They turned to the door and for a second, the patient thought he saw a dark robe and cowl swirl and a scythe in their hand. But it was gone in a flash and there was just the other standing there, those eyes - those brown eyes - staring into his soul.
“You coming?” A hand reached out, and again, there seemed to be the imposed image of the dark robe falling over the pale fingers. But the image was banished just as soon as the patient reached his own hand out to take the offered hand.
He stopped inches away though, one last thought still on his mind. “Did it hurt?”
“Dying?” The smile shifted to a grin he knew equally well. “Sometimes it’s painless. Mine was, despite everything.”
So much blood.
“Mine?” The patient whispered, hand wavering. He desperately wanted to touch that hand again. Desperately wondered if it would be warm like he remembered before it or cold like after. But he had to know.
“Yours will be quick. Promise, Boss.” The fingers wiggled reassuringly and the patient closed the distance. The fingers below his were cold, but yet, at the same time warm. It was an odd sensation and part of him relished it. The other moved as if remembering, lifting his hand to their lips and kissing the knuckles. Their lips, like their fingers, were cool yet warm. Again, an odd sensation. “C’mon then.”
The patient felt himself rise and slowly, as if he were re-learning how to walk, followed the other out the door.
---
The nurse was young, much too young to have seen a lot of death in her profession, but she enjoyed her job. She especially enjoyed visiting with the patients she was assigned to. There was one, though, she felt sorry for.
From his chart and the people that had visited him before they‘d stopped, she could gather that he’d held a dying coworker and the trauma had triggered a breakdown. Post traumatic stress, or something like that. Being a hopeless romantic, though, she’d decided shortly after he’d come under her care that whoever this coworker was, they must have meant a lot to him.
The nurse was in a good mood today, and wanted to spread some of her cheer with the patients she took care of and her special patient in particular.
“It’s a beautiful morning today, Mr. Stokes,” she greeted happily as she opened the door, and paused on the threshold. Her patient was asleep. And he wasn’t alone.
The man sitting in a chair facing her patient was dressed all in black, which almost seemed to compliment his pale skin. For a moment, she almost thought he looked like a Grim Reaper, although she’d always thought they wore their faces covered by hoods. And they certainly didn’t grin with near perfect teeth or have brown hair with blond highlights. Or wear sneakers. To be honest, even though she thought he looked a bit like a Reaper in his getup, the romantic in her thought he almost looked angelic. Although, as she noticed when her patient’s guest turned his head to look in her direction, she’d never heard of an angel that wore eyeliner.
Seeing that grin turned toward her made her heart skip a beat and she took a step back. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize Mr. Stokes had company, Mr..”
The stranger pushed himself out of his chair, glancing back at the sleeping man. “Greg’ll do.”
His gaze came back to the nurse, and for another moment, she couldn’t help but stare at him. Finally, she composed herself to ask, “Did you want me to come back later?”
Greg’s grin never faded. “I was just leaving.” He brushed past her and she shivered, despite the warmth of the room.
She turned to watch him leave, but he was nowhere in sight. “That’s odd,” she murmured, shaking her head and turning back to the room before her. Even with that, her good mood was still there as she moved to her patient.
The nurse reached out to gently shake her patient’s shoulder, but froze. Even through his clothes, her patient was cool to the touch. As she sat down carefully on the bed, staring silently at the patient and knowing she’d have to get a doctor to pronounce him dead, even if it was clear he was, she realized two things at once.
The first was that, although his eyes were closed, he was smiling as if he’d seen the love of his life just moments before.
The second was, despite the flooring that seemed to make every footstep heard, she’d never heard Greg’s sneakers as he’d left the room.
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no subject
Date: 2007-09-02 02:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-02 07:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-02 07:27 pm (UTC)The other moved as if remembering, lifting his hand to their lips and kissing the knuckles.
Right there, is where I cried. The whole thing fit so well, I can only describe it as wonderfully silent. I love how Greg's the one to 'fetch' Nick, so to speak. Gah.
Plus, eyeliner. I love you for adding the eyeliner, because that should be a part of every fic, damnit.
no subject
Date: 2007-09-05 09:29 am (UTC)