The First Goodbye - Fanfic
Jul. 4th, 2010 03:53 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phasing_catCharacters: Kitty Pryde, mentions of Jeremy Greer
Rating: PG-13 (one F-bomb)
Setting: Shades of Gray!Verse
Prompt: #73 Smell - Writing Table
Word Count: 801
I stand outside his door for what feels like an hour, working up the nerve to go in. I didn’t exactly lie to Dana. I told her I was going for a walk, and I did. My feet brought me to Jeremy’s apartment before my mind realized where I was going. My brain and heart have been as close to numb as possible for the past few days. Now they’ve started to wake up, and the pain is mixed with anger stronger than I’ve ever felt before.
That’s why I’m here. I need to, have to, go in, I need to look for clues. I have to find out who did this to him, for my own peace of mind, and hopefully so he too can be at peace. So why am I so afraid?
I take one more look up and down the hall before phasing through his front door. It’s immediately obvious that someone has been here before me. I can see open dresser drawers in his bedroom, and the desk is completely cleared off. I curse under my breath – the first place I’d planned to look was his laptop, but it’s gone. I take a few steps further into the room, my heart wrenching in my chest.
The kitchen is just as we left it, ice cream bowls still in the sink. He hated doing the dishes, and cleaning in general. I rinse them out and put them in the dishwasher just as I’ve done dozens of times before. He used to like watching me clean up. I can see his smile in my mind, the one he’d get when I’d lean over the dishwasher, and I’d know what he was thinking about.
I move over to the desk and check all the drawers – empty. I stand at the bedroom door, memories nearly overwhelming me. I turn my back on the bed and look through the dresser. Most of his clothes are still here, as are the ones of mine he let me keep here. I should have brought a bag to put them in, but I wasn’t thinking. The closet has been ransacked too, but there’s a small empty duffel on the floor. I take that and put my clothes in it, tucking a few of his t-shirts in with my clothes.
There’s nothing here to tell me who killed him, not even in the bedside table. I lay down on his side, burying my face in his pillow as hot tears start to escape my eyes. Oh god, it smells like him, that combination of his shampoo and soap that was undeniably Jeremy. If someone’s watching they can see me here, and fuck it, I don’t care. I sob into the pillow, curling up in a ball to somehow try to make the pain as small as me. He’s gone, he’s never coming back, and he’s taken my heart with him. There’s nothing left in my chest but a giant black hole that keeps getting bigger and bigger. I can’t breathe it hurts so much. The only thing I want in the world is the one thing I can’t have. I want him back.
I want to hear his laugh, to feel his hand on my face and his warmth as he holds me. I want him to tell me everything is going to be okay, that he’ll love me forever and I’ll never be alone again. I want to bury my face in his chest and kiss him and listen to his heart beating as I fall asleep.
And I can’t. Because someone or something took him away. Someone saw my beautiful, kind Jeremy and decided he needed to die. And for that, they’re going to die too.
My phone beeps in my pocket, and I pull it out, reading the screen through blurry eyes. It’s a text from Dana, wondering where I am. They’ve released Jeremy’s body, and she needs me to decide what I want to do with it. I audibly moan, not knowing if I can deal with that, when a thought hits me like a ton of bricks.
His phone. He must have had it on him when he was killed. And his wallet. He wrote notes to himself all the time so that he wouldn’t forget things for work, and his full calendar was in his phone.
I force myself to get up, taking his pillowcase, now wet with my tears, and putting it in the bag before zipping it up. I splash cold water on my face in the bathroom, then sling the bag over my shoulder. I take one last look around, running my hand over the couch, the kitchen counter, the doorknob… saying goodbye. To him, never… but to this place we shared. I know I’ll never come back here.
Rating: PG-13 (one F-bomb)
Setting: Shades of Gray!Verse
Prompt: #73 Smell - Writing Table
Word Count: 801
I stand outside his door for what feels like an hour, working up the nerve to go in. I didn’t exactly lie to Dana. I told her I was going for a walk, and I did. My feet brought me to Jeremy’s apartment before my mind realized where I was going. My brain and heart have been as close to numb as possible for the past few days. Now they’ve started to wake up, and the pain is mixed with anger stronger than I’ve ever felt before.
That’s why I’m here. I need to, have to, go in, I need to look for clues. I have to find out who did this to him, for my own peace of mind, and hopefully so he too can be at peace. So why am I so afraid?
I take one more look up and down the hall before phasing through his front door. It’s immediately obvious that someone has been here before me. I can see open dresser drawers in his bedroom, and the desk is completely cleared off. I curse under my breath – the first place I’d planned to look was his laptop, but it’s gone. I take a few steps further into the room, my heart wrenching in my chest.
The kitchen is just as we left it, ice cream bowls still in the sink. He hated doing the dishes, and cleaning in general. I rinse them out and put them in the dishwasher just as I’ve done dozens of times before. He used to like watching me clean up. I can see his smile in my mind, the one he’d get when I’d lean over the dishwasher, and I’d know what he was thinking about.
I move over to the desk and check all the drawers – empty. I stand at the bedroom door, memories nearly overwhelming me. I turn my back on the bed and look through the dresser. Most of his clothes are still here, as are the ones of mine he let me keep here. I should have brought a bag to put them in, but I wasn’t thinking. The closet has been ransacked too, but there’s a small empty duffel on the floor. I take that and put my clothes in it, tucking a few of his t-shirts in with my clothes.
There’s nothing here to tell me who killed him, not even in the bedside table. I lay down on his side, burying my face in his pillow as hot tears start to escape my eyes. Oh god, it smells like him, that combination of his shampoo and soap that was undeniably Jeremy. If someone’s watching they can see me here, and fuck it, I don’t care. I sob into the pillow, curling up in a ball to somehow try to make the pain as small as me. He’s gone, he’s never coming back, and he’s taken my heart with him. There’s nothing left in my chest but a giant black hole that keeps getting bigger and bigger. I can’t breathe it hurts so much. The only thing I want in the world is the one thing I can’t have. I want him back.
I want to hear his laugh, to feel his hand on my face and his warmth as he holds me. I want him to tell me everything is going to be okay, that he’ll love me forever and I’ll never be alone again. I want to bury my face in his chest and kiss him and listen to his heart beating as I fall asleep.
And I can’t. Because someone or something took him away. Someone saw my beautiful, kind Jeremy and decided he needed to die. And for that, they’re going to die too.
My phone beeps in my pocket, and I pull it out, reading the screen through blurry eyes. It’s a text from Dana, wondering where I am. They’ve released Jeremy’s body, and she needs me to decide what I want to do with it. I audibly moan, not knowing if I can deal with that, when a thought hits me like a ton of bricks.
His phone. He must have had it on him when he was killed. And his wallet. He wrote notes to himself all the time so that he wouldn’t forget things for work, and his full calendar was in his phone.
I force myself to get up, taking his pillowcase, now wet with my tears, and putting it in the bag before zipping it up. I splash cold water on my face in the bathroom, then sling the bag over my shoulder. I take one last look around, running my hand over the couch, the kitchen counter, the doorknob… saying goodbye. To him, never… but to this place we shared. I know I’ll never come back here.
