Mari does death!fic
Feb. 3rd, 2005 05:03 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fun_like_thatTitle: Come Again Another Day
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Rating: PG-13, un-betaed.
Warnings: Major character death.
Disclaimer: *insert witty line about not owning anything of CowLip and Showtime's here*
Summary: Shitty weather for a shitty day, one year later.
A/N: I'm a little stuck on something else I'm writing and was feeling somewhat maudlin tonight and out came this sentimental and lame brainfart. Also, I was listening to Rain by Breaking Benjamin (a mirror because it somehow sent twice *headscratch*) and it made my brain explode. I love death!fic so I suppose it was only a matter of time before I took a stab at it.
Brian awoke almost forty-five minutes later than he usually would have and smoothed his hand over the cold and wrinkled sheets beside him for a moment, indicating Justin's absence. He rolled out of bed and hurried through his normal morning routines, making a note of things that he had forgotten to mention to his partner the night before. He'd have to stop by tonight after work and catch up.
He cursed to himself as he left the loft. He was late for work and didn't even have time to make a cup of coffee. He wondered for the hundredth time why he'd never gotten Justin to show him how to pre-set the timer so it would be ready when he got up.
Too late now.
The day was shitty and dark, raining in buckets and Brian had forgotten his umbrella. He braved the freezing rain and jogged out to the ‘vette. Before starting it he leaned his head back on the seat and sighed. Another long day ahead.
Ted and Cynthia were strangely quiet that day, trying not to bother Brian too much. He took fewer calls from clients than usual but was grateful for the slower day. He was exhausted from the night before. Even after all this time Justin was able to keep him awake for hours.
He never got angry though.
Cynthia poked her head into his office around three-thirty and suggested he go home and try to get some sleep, he looked like shit. He gave her a flat smile with none of his usual snark. Maybe he should throw in the towel for the day. He gathered his things, a few files to look over that night as Cynthia watched him with the strangest look on his face.
"What?" he finally asked.
"Today's such a shitty day," she replied softly.
"Rain does that," Brian replied, not looking at her.
"A little sun would have been nice, is all. Feels like it's been dark and depressing for awhile."
"Everyone needs a little sunshine, don't they?" Brian flashed her a half-grin and left the office, brushing past her without a look back.
Cynthia watched him leave with a frown.
Brian decided he didn't want to cook, as usual, so he stopped by the diner on his way home. He shook some of the rain out of his hair as he stepped inside and looked around. He didn't recognize anyone, not even someone he might have fucked before. Faces changed so quickly these days.
"Brian," Deb called out to him, beckoning him over. He approached and sat on one of the stools in front of her. She stared at him for a few moments before reaching out and running a hand over his damp hair.
"You should stay out of the rain, you hear me? You don't need to get sick. Not now."
"Yes, mother," Brian replied with a small smile. She sniffed and turned away, fiddling with the coffee pot for a moment before turning back.
"How are you?"
"Fine," Brian shrugged. "Weather sucks."
"No sunshine," Deb said softly.
"Not today," Brian nodded. "It'll come out again, no worries. Little bit of rain never bothered anyone, right?"
Deb nodded. She sighed and changed the subject. "What can I get you?"
"The special, to go. And a lemon square."
Deb looked at him sharply but Brian just shrugged again. "Today's a good day to indulge, right?"
"Yeah," Deb replied hoarsely, then went back into the kitchen to prepare his meal.
Brian left the diner as soon as he got his dinner and went back to the loft. It was still dark when he got inside. He flipped on a couple lamps and sat down at the computer after grabbing a fork. He opened a few account files he was working on, then checked his email. He read through them quickly, discarding some, saving some. He read some older emails from Justin, reminding himself of a few things.
The phone rang while he was eating and checking things on the computer so he let it go. After four rings the machine kicked in and Justin's voice filled the loft. Brian ignored it, continued eating. It was Lindsay leaving a message about taking Gus for the weekend, that he missed his dad and Justin. Brian faltered for a moment and put his fork down. He crossed the room and muted the machine, not wanting to listen to the rest.
He threw the rest of his dinner out and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He looked outside and saw it was still raining quite heavily so he threw one of Justin's old sweatshirts on. He'd get a kick out of seeing Brian in it, he knew.
He pulled his leather jacket on and remembered the umbrella this time when he left. The rain didn't seem to have let up at all. He turned off his cell as he drove and lit a cigarette, finishing it before he stopped the car about fifteen minutes later in a quieter neighborhood.
He got out and grabbed the umbrella and walked through a small iron gate into a grassy area. He walked down the path that he knew so well from hundreds of trips over the past year. He could find his way here with his eyes closed, he knew.
The rain was letting up some but still fell with splats on the slabs of marble and concrete around him.
He stopped walking when he got to large, slate gray marble tombstone. He looked at it for a moment, taking in the brightly coloured flower arrangements that had been placed there between last night and now, the small teddy bear with one that had obviously been left by someone who didn't know him very well.
"Hey Justin," Brian said softly. He stepped closer and ran his hand over the marble, wishing it was as soft as he remembered his partner being.
"It's fucking cold out. It's rained for shit all day long. Guess it's fitting, right? Everyone going on about sunshine and the weather all day long as if I'm going to break down around them." Brian snorted. He squatted down so he could trace the lettering with a finger. Justin Taylor May 16, 1984- April 18, 2004
"It doesn't feel like a year. Feels longer and shorter all at once," Brian admitted. "I was late getting started this morning. It was harder today. At first I wasn't even sure why. Spent so long tuning it all out, I guess."
Brian was quiet for a few minutes, wondering what to say. What he could say? He thought he could treat today just like any other. In reality, it was killing him inside.
"Justin, I don't know how much longer I can stay. This is... It's too much, you know?" He cleared his throat. "I catch myself thinking things I never would have a year ago. Wishing things were different and imagining being in the car with you. Saving you, somehow. Or ..." he trailed off. It felt wrong to voice thoughts of his own death here. Justin would be disappointed.
"I could say a lot right now. But it would all be bullshit because you know it all anyway without me coming out and being a dyke about it. So here it is. It's been a year and I miss you. More than you probably ever wished I would. I bet you're probably waiting for me to come out with some heart-felt declaration of love, right? Things haven't changed that much." He forced a laugh that faded quickly.
Brian leaned forward and carefully rested his forehead against the cold stone for a few moments before clearing his throat again and standing up.
"I'll stay longer tomorrow. I can't be here right now. I'll call your mom later and see how she's doing, maybe have dinner with her next week."
He turned around deliberately and walked back to the 'vette. On the way he noticed it had stopped raining finally so he closed the umbrella and looked up at the still-overcast sky.
But for the first time all day he half wished it was still raining because now he had nothing to blame his wet cheeks on.
Pairing: Brian/Justin
Rating: PG-13, un-betaed.
Warnings: Major character death.
Disclaimer: *insert witty line about not owning anything of CowLip and Showtime's here*
Summary: Shitty weather for a shitty day, one year later.
A/N: I'm a little stuck on something else I'm writing and was feeling somewhat maudlin tonight and out came this sentimental and lame brainfart. Also, I was listening to Rain by Breaking Benjamin (a mirror because it somehow sent twice *headscratch*) and it made my brain explode. I love death!fic so I suppose it was only a matter of time before I took a stab at it.
Brian awoke almost forty-five minutes later than he usually would have and smoothed his hand over the cold and wrinkled sheets beside him for a moment, indicating Justin's absence. He rolled out of bed and hurried through his normal morning routines, making a note of things that he had forgotten to mention to his partner the night before. He'd have to stop by tonight after work and catch up.
He cursed to himself as he left the loft. He was late for work and didn't even have time to make a cup of coffee. He wondered for the hundredth time why he'd never gotten Justin to show him how to pre-set the timer so it would be ready when he got up.
Too late now.
The day was shitty and dark, raining in buckets and Brian had forgotten his umbrella. He braved the freezing rain and jogged out to the ‘vette. Before starting it he leaned his head back on the seat and sighed. Another long day ahead.
Ted and Cynthia were strangely quiet that day, trying not to bother Brian too much. He took fewer calls from clients than usual but was grateful for the slower day. He was exhausted from the night before. Even after all this time Justin was able to keep him awake for hours.
He never got angry though.
Cynthia poked her head into his office around three-thirty and suggested he go home and try to get some sleep, he looked like shit. He gave her a flat smile with none of his usual snark. Maybe he should throw in the towel for the day. He gathered his things, a few files to look over that night as Cynthia watched him with the strangest look on his face.
"What?" he finally asked.
"Today's such a shitty day," she replied softly.
"Rain does that," Brian replied, not looking at her.
"A little sun would have been nice, is all. Feels like it's been dark and depressing for awhile."
"Everyone needs a little sunshine, don't they?" Brian flashed her a half-grin and left the office, brushing past her without a look back.
Cynthia watched him leave with a frown.
Brian decided he didn't want to cook, as usual, so he stopped by the diner on his way home. He shook some of the rain out of his hair as he stepped inside and looked around. He didn't recognize anyone, not even someone he might have fucked before. Faces changed so quickly these days.
"Brian," Deb called out to him, beckoning him over. He approached and sat on one of the stools in front of her. She stared at him for a few moments before reaching out and running a hand over his damp hair.
"You should stay out of the rain, you hear me? You don't need to get sick. Not now."
"Yes, mother," Brian replied with a small smile. She sniffed and turned away, fiddling with the coffee pot for a moment before turning back.
"How are you?"
"Fine," Brian shrugged. "Weather sucks."
"No sunshine," Deb said softly.
"Not today," Brian nodded. "It'll come out again, no worries. Little bit of rain never bothered anyone, right?"
Deb nodded. She sighed and changed the subject. "What can I get you?"
"The special, to go. And a lemon square."
Deb looked at him sharply but Brian just shrugged again. "Today's a good day to indulge, right?"
"Yeah," Deb replied hoarsely, then went back into the kitchen to prepare his meal.
Brian left the diner as soon as he got his dinner and went back to the loft. It was still dark when he got inside. He flipped on a couple lamps and sat down at the computer after grabbing a fork. He opened a few account files he was working on, then checked his email. He read through them quickly, discarding some, saving some. He read some older emails from Justin, reminding himself of a few things.
The phone rang while he was eating and checking things on the computer so he let it go. After four rings the machine kicked in and Justin's voice filled the loft. Brian ignored it, continued eating. It was Lindsay leaving a message about taking Gus for the weekend, that he missed his dad and Justin. Brian faltered for a moment and put his fork down. He crossed the room and muted the machine, not wanting to listen to the rest.
He threw the rest of his dinner out and changed into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He looked outside and saw it was still raining quite heavily so he threw one of Justin's old sweatshirts on. He'd get a kick out of seeing Brian in it, he knew.
He pulled his leather jacket on and remembered the umbrella this time when he left. The rain didn't seem to have let up at all. He turned off his cell as he drove and lit a cigarette, finishing it before he stopped the car about fifteen minutes later in a quieter neighborhood.
He got out and grabbed the umbrella and walked through a small iron gate into a grassy area. He walked down the path that he knew so well from hundreds of trips over the past year. He could find his way here with his eyes closed, he knew.
The rain was letting up some but still fell with splats on the slabs of marble and concrete around him.
He stopped walking when he got to large, slate gray marble tombstone. He looked at it for a moment, taking in the brightly coloured flower arrangements that had been placed there between last night and now, the small teddy bear with one that had obviously been left by someone who didn't know him very well.
"Hey Justin," Brian said softly. He stepped closer and ran his hand over the marble, wishing it was as soft as he remembered his partner being.
"It's fucking cold out. It's rained for shit all day long. Guess it's fitting, right? Everyone going on about sunshine and the weather all day long as if I'm going to break down around them." Brian snorted. He squatted down so he could trace the lettering with a finger. Justin Taylor May 16, 1984- April 18, 2004
"It doesn't feel like a year. Feels longer and shorter all at once," Brian admitted. "I was late getting started this morning. It was harder today. At first I wasn't even sure why. Spent so long tuning it all out, I guess."
Brian was quiet for a few minutes, wondering what to say. What he could say? He thought he could treat today just like any other. In reality, it was killing him inside.
"Justin, I don't know how much longer I can stay. This is... It's too much, you know?" He cleared his throat. "I catch myself thinking things I never would have a year ago. Wishing things were different and imagining being in the car with you. Saving you, somehow. Or ..." he trailed off. It felt wrong to voice thoughts of his own death here. Justin would be disappointed.
"I could say a lot right now. But it would all be bullshit because you know it all anyway without me coming out and being a dyke about it. So here it is. It's been a year and I miss you. More than you probably ever wished I would. I bet you're probably waiting for me to come out with some heart-felt declaration of love, right? Things haven't changed that much." He forced a laugh that faded quickly.
Brian leaned forward and carefully rested his forehead against the cold stone for a few moments before clearing his throat again and standing up.
"I'll stay longer tomorrow. I can't be here right now. I'll call your mom later and see how she's doing, maybe have dinner with her next week."
He turned around deliberately and walked back to the 'vette. On the way he noticed it had stopped raining finally so he closed the umbrella and looked up at the still-overcast sky.
But for the first time all day he half wished it was still raining because now he had nothing to blame his wet cheeks on.
