Butter Yellow Lights and Forever

by Lune-Solei

It’s sunset. The time of ending, of darkness, of death, the time when everything closes down and goes to sleep, rests for the sunrise. He has never felt more alive. OddSam. Odd thinks back on things he could have done differently. PG13

Disclaimer: I don't own Code Lyoko or the lyrics used. The show belongs to AnteFilms and the song belongs to Papa Roach. It's called "Forever."

Rating: PG

Pairing: Odd/Sam

Warnings: Use of drugs. Cursing. Thoughts of suicide. Character death.

Author's Note: This came to me while in the car and listening to this song for the first time. Something in it struck me and I admit freely that I had no idea where it was going when I started writing it...

Dedication: This is dedicated To my Katie-Kae because she laughed a lot at it and it made me happy to make her happy.

---

In the brightest hour of my darkest day

I realized what is wrong with me

Can't get over you

Can't get through to you

It's been a helter-skelter romance

From the start…

It's sunset. The time of ending, of darkness, of death, the time when everything closes down and goes to sleep, rests for the sunrise. He has never felt more alive. The golden rays are just now disappearing behind the dark trees stretching over and around him, a last brilliant burst of color before everything fades to the color of pitch and black. The birds are quieting, nesting down; the lights of the old stone building are being turned on, glowing butter yellow in the growing gloom.

Its supper time, he can hear the raised voices as they pass by, a scarce yard-and-a-half from him, not noticing him as he stands in the shadows of a tall oak. He should be joining them, should be laughing as he jokes and shoves his way to the front of the long line, tray in hand and stomach rumbling. But he can't. He isn't hungry, isn't in a joking mood, can't imagine seeing happy faces when the sun is setting and death is in the wind.

They're approaching now, he hears Aelita's high pitched squeal, and sees Yumi's elongated shadow. Jeremie's arm is wrapped around the shorter girl's shoulders, holding her close and Ulrich is shuffling along, shaking his head every so often. He should be with them, he knows this, but he still can't force his feet to shuffle forward. Then, it doesn't matter anymore because they've passed with only one moment of brief panic when Ulrich raises his eyes and looks at him. But he seems to understand on some deeper, more cosmic plane, that he needs space, time, whatever, away from them.

It's the wind, he decides as he wanders away from cold stone and butter yellow windows, that's what's making me act so weird. As if it picks up on his thoughts the wind returns, caressing his already cold cheeks and playing whisper-soft with his hair. The shadows grow, the velvet blackness engulfing the wood slowly but surely as the final bird songs fade, replaced by crickets and owls instead. He sighed softly, reaching out absently to press his hand to the rough bark of an unidentifiable tree. It scratched at his palm and he knows that there'll be red scratches there when he finally returns to the light.

Night rustles overwhelm him as the laughter and voices of the school dissipate, seeming almost as if they're no more than a magical place out of his imagination when he pauses to glance back at the glowing lights once. Never look back. The voice is soft, sweet, a sighed whisper of warmth. It attracts his attention and he looks around quickly, feeling his neck vertebrae protest and creak at the motion. Nothing is there but dark shapes and rustling leaves.

I'm going insane. It's finally happened, guess it really didn't take all that long, he muses quietly. It doesn't deter him though, only makes him hasten just a little bit more, a little bit faster, to his destination: An old pond that he hasn't visited in what seems like years but is really only a matter of months. An upraised root reaches out, sufficiently managing to trip him and he grits his teeth as he hits the ground, left knee coming to rest upon a particularly hard and ungracious rock.

"Damn it!" he growls, sitting back and rubbing his knee slowly. His fingers come away sticky but he can't see what's on them in the dark though he knows anyway. "Fucking hell!" he grumbles, wiping the blood along his pants and shoving himself to his feet. A musical laugh reaches his ears and he jerks again, glaring around him. "You think this is funny, don't you?" he demands.

You always end up injured in one way or another. Another warm breeze, pushing at him, showing him the way once more even though he doesn't need it anymore, has memorized the path from the sheer number of times he's walked it. The laugh again as the wind pushes harder and he grits his teeth as his knee twinges under the mere pressure walking requires.

"You're the one who did it to me," he whispers. The air stills and he can hear the soft tinkle of falling water coming from ahead and he smiles. "That got you, didn't it?" The wind remains absent, the voice silent, and he feels his smile turning into a grin, a rueful, hurt grin. "I never thought I could make you speechless."

The fronds and low shrubs have grown since he's last been here, fighting to reclaim the trail as their own. He glowers at the bushes, at the thorns that poke and prod and feel like over enthusiastic lab technicians with a handful of needles, at the spider webs that insist on sticking to his face and hair. He has no doubt that the spiders are beginning to take up residence in his hair and that does make him edgy.

You injured me too…Odd. The voice is sudden, quiet, as he finally emerges from the dense overgrowth. He frowns at the words when he finally deciphers their meaning and looks up, eyes taking in the creek-fed pond and the oversized ferns that line its banks. Pale moonlight fills the clearing with a gentle glow, better, friendlier than the butter yellow lights he was so used to these days.

Crickets are replaced by the gentle croaking of frogs and he sighs, approaching the pond and sinking into the soft, slightly damp ground as he stares at his reflection. Pale skin and pale eyes, he hasn't seen much sun lately. His hair isn't as luminous as it once was, it came from not being in the sun as well, turning a darker shade of blonde-almost-brown, with still the one splotch of purple though that too was fading.

"I never meant to hurt you," he whispers as he leans closer to the water, studying the wavering dark circles under his eyes. He isn't sure if they're really that dark, that big, since he hasn't seen a mirror in an overly long period of time. A frog jumps from a rock and into the water, obliterating his face into a million overlapping ripples and he sighs, leaning back and looking up at the almost-full moon above him.

Nor I to you. The voice is soft, restrained and suffering. He closes his eyes, falling back onto the grass, mouth open as he breathes the scent of grass and lavender in deeply. He can feel the pressure building, escalating until it becomes one solid burst of anguish, forcing him to drown in it and he squeezes his eyes together tighter. I forgive you. Do you forgive me?

"I told you already, yes. Yes, I forgive you for…everything." He breaks off, a half-manic laugh ready to burst from his lips and he bites his tongue hard, tasting the metallic tang of blood as it floods his mouth. He turns his head and spits once, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He shifts, trying to get comfortable and his knee protests with a brilliant and impressive burst of pain and he squeezes his eyes together tightly, trying to block out the fire it feels like his knee is incased in. "Bloody hell," he whispers, but he already feels himself going.

Soft laughter, light and musical and breathtakingly beautiful fills his ears. He opens his eyes to see her sitting at the edge of the pond, hair unbound and hanging in a dark curtain down her back and over her shoulders. She turns to face him and he sees her eyes glittering, moonlight reflected in them, on her face, making the sharp angles soft, turning strands of hair silver. He feels himself smile as he sees her.

"It's been a while, hasn't it Odd?"

Oh-so long he agrees silently, sitting as she draws her legs up under her. Months, a whole summer, apart and she's just as beautiful as he remembers. Exotic, heavenly; a different creature entirely then the mere mortals that inhabit the planet. But…He watches her stand, making her way silently to him. Watches as she drops to her knees before him; smile still bright.

"I've missed you Odd. Have you missed me?"

"Yes Sammie. Summer was…uneventful…without you," he says finally. An eyebrow quirks and the smile falters temporarily. "I missed you tons, no one wanted to get into trouble with me." He can't lie and he can't tell the truth.

"Ah, is that all you missed me for?"

Her lips are dangerously close, shimmering and parted, waiting for him to make his move and he felt his stomach tighten and somersault in one fluid move. Damn it. She doesn't seem to notice his hesitation, only smiles and leans in, expecting it to be as it was before, pressing her mouth to his, gentle and persuasive all in one. But something's different…something's wrong. He feels it in the way she trembles in his arms.

"Sam?"

"Mm?" she murmurs back, tracing a lazy pattern over his cheek with a cold finger. "What is it Odd?"

"I…I…" He takes a breath, eyes closing briefly and when they reopen she's still sitting there, still exuding the soft glow of moonlight and he sees the scars on her arms. The moonlight catches the dull glint of the hypodermic needle lying in the grass where she had been sitting. "You're using again, aren't you?" His voice is colder than what he'd wanted.

"I missed you so much Odd…"

The pond doesn't, isn't, bringing back the fond memories he'd hoped for. He sits up, knees drawn up under his chin and body trembling. The dull glitter of something discarded near the edge of the pond catches his eye and he sees the same needle once more. "Damn it Sam I can't even remember you properly now without remembering the damn heroine!"

I can't help it… It doesn't sound as sorry as it should, only a sigh and a gentle caress to try and make him feel better. He doesn't buy into it; instead he clenches his fists and cranes his head back so that he can stare up at the stars above. Do you forgive me…Odd?

"I don't know why I can't fucking forget you like everyone else has. Or at least get you out of my mind. Don't you have something better to do?" The air is still again and he groans, for once wishing for the answer that he know won't come. They'd never been able to finish a conversation before. Never. "Damn you."

I love you Odd and you don't love me. Speechlessness impairs him for the first time and he stills, looking around, trying to rid himself of the ever-persistent voice. It's okay Odd, I understand. It won't stop me though. A tree branch creaks in the abrupt change of wind and he closes his eyes tightly, fighting the tears, fighting to keep himself together.

"You never told me what you did over the summer." A pause. "And you never asked me what I did. Don't you care?"

He glances up, eyes alighting on her as she studies the shoelace in her hands. It's one of his, purple and green checked with sudden splotches of bright yellow here and there. The moon is behind her, on its way to a slow descent and it bathes her in the soft white glow of a thousand diamonds. She seems satisfied and quickly wraps the shoelace around her arm, using teeth and fingers to knot it.

His eyes return to the sky above. "Not much, I told you before I left I was going to be visiting my family, then staying a couple of weeks in Germany with Ulrich…Didn't I?" He doesn't wait for her answer. "What did you do on your vacation?" He really doesn't want to know, doesn't know why he keeps meeting her here when all she does is get high anymore. He knows what she did during the summer.

Her response is prolonged by the lengthy sigh that escapes her lips and he knows that she's feeling the affects of the drugs just shot into her system. He feels the shoelace land on him and turns his eyes on her. She's leaning back, elbows locked and arms supporting her weight. He can see a tiny stream of blood escaping her injured body.

"I slept with Henry."

Well, he certainly hadn't expected that. "What?" he demands, sitting and staring at her. "Repeat that?"

She laughs softly, shaking her head. "Don't act so shocked. It was an act of intoxicated stupidity, but I thought you'd like to know." Her eyes look all-seeing suddenly. "You've lost interest in me."

"So you sleep with someone else Samantha?" He hasn't resorted to using her first name since…he can't remember the last time, can only stare, open-mouthed, at her.

She shrugs, the picture of nonchalance, and seems to notice the escaping blood. A frown mars her face and then she smiles, leaning forward, arm extended toward him. "Want a taste?" He gives her a disgusted look and she giggles. "You don't know what you're missing."

"I think I'd rather all the same."

"Silly, silly," she sighs, licking the blood from her arm and he represses the urge to gag. "You're mad at me aren't you?" He ignores her, getting to his feet and she stands as well, wobbling at first but making her way over to him, grabbing onto him. "I forgive you Odd; do you forgive me?"

He stutters for a moment, swamped by the depth of her gaze. "Forgive me for what?" he manages.

"For whatever it is you did that you don't want to tell me. I don't care what you did. All that matters is us, together, tonight." She smiles at him and he feels like he's drowning.

"I forgive you Sam, really, I do. You don't need to keep hanging around, you can go, leave. Return to ghost-world or wherever." I am insane. I'm acting like she's actually here. He shakes his head, grabbing a pebble from the ground and hurls it impatiently into the pond, watching as fish dart away from it and a frog is toppled from its lily pad. Life can be unfair.

I want to make things better Odd. Tell me, how can I make things better? The wind is impatient, pawing at his clothes, ruffling his hair. It's anxious and alone and all he can see is her eyes, dark and empty looking as she sat in the moonlight and braided her hair. He shakes his head, vanquishing the memory from his conscience and looks down at his legs. He had been right; the left knee was covered in blood.

Oh fuck…he managed to think before he was leaning over, vomiting into a nearby fern. Lizards and other small creatures escape and he feels momentarily sorry for them, then again, like the stone and the frog, life was unfair. He sat back, making sure not to look at his leg, not to think about his leg. He'll have to burn the pants when he gets back and Ulrich will have to bandage the wound. "Damn stupid blood," he grumbles.

Blood is natural, it's beautiful. The voice is mocking him now; he knows it, especially when he hears the soft giggle. Stupid voice, stupid blood, stupid bloody (wrong word choice there) rock that just had to be in the middle of the stupid path. You shouldn't hate blood that much Odd, what did you do when you lost your baby teeth?

"Puked," he told it snippily. He really didn't need this, not now. All he really wants to do is turn around and make the treacherous journey back to the dorms but he can't. He relaxes back into the flattened grass, trying to ignore the acrid taste in his mouth. "Please Sammie…why do you keep coming back to me?"

"You're late." Her voice is accusatory, her eyes dangerous, when he finally stumbles into the clearing. "Why are you late?"

"You've been late the past week. I'm entitled to one tardy," he snaps, brushing the spider webs off his clothes and face. She grins at him suddenly, stepping up and catching a spider that had been skittering over his shoulder. She seems entranced by it as it scurries over her fingers, across the palm, along the veins of her wrist and forearm. "Uh…Sam?"

"Did you know that some people eat spiders?"

"Uh, yeah, actually. We learned that in…history? Biology? Something like that. I don't think this one should be eaten though," he says quickly. She grins again, a laugh escaping chapped lips and catches the spider with her other hand, letting it go in the bushes.

"No living creature should be food unwillingly," she murmurs.

"Unwillingly?"

"Mmhm," she mumbles. "Every creature should have a choice, don't you think so?" She presses her lips to his and he tastes rum and cheap ale and peppermint. "Why are you late?"

She's swaying softly to her own music, hair hanging dark as ebony around her face, red streaked and red tipped now. Her skin is a pale cocoa color and she's thinner than he's ever seen her previously. Her shirt hangs from bony shoulders, bony collarbone, and when she raises her arms in a stretch he can see her ribs.

"Ulrich didn't want me to come."

"Ulrich never liked me…I don't know why." Her eyes meet his and she grips his arms in hers. "Will you join me tonight?" she whispers. "It's so lonely doing it alone."

"No Sam."

"You used to…" Her gaze meets his and he's frozen in place. "Before last summer you used to use too," she spits out. He can feel her gaze boring into him and feels sweat begin to form on his forehead. "What, did Ulrich talk you out of it?" she laughs. "He's too uptight; Yumi needs to get him laid and fast."

"Stop it Sam."

"I understand, he's your roommate, but he can't tell you how to live Odd. No one can tell you how to live but you."

"Then stop trying to!" he yells suddenly. She stops, the smile disappearing and he feels a small burst of satisfaction when she's silent. "I come here despite the obvious reasons not to. I fucking loved you once Sam!"

Her voice is soft, quiet. "Once…"

"I don't love what you've become. You're a fucking addict and you don't even realize it!"

Her eyes narrow, twin maelstroms with him as their intended target. "You're an addict too Odd. Only I think your problem is worse than mine. There isn't a rehab in the world for an addict like you."

"Oh yeah? And what am I so addicted to?" His voice was rough, a growl and a threat.

Her voice is soft, sweet, and confident: "Me."

"Damn, bloody, fucking…" he trails off into more cursing and pushes himself to his feet. His balance is off and he has to take a quick step to avoid falling as his leg threatens to give out beneath him.

The clearing is completely still and when he looks up at the sudden dimness he sees the thunder clouds beginning to roll in and that lets loose another stream of heated curses. He stumbles around the lip of the pond, past the discarded needle and to where the small waterfall was. Here was the plaque he'd bought and installed, already beginning to become covered in moss and vines.

It's lovely. A gentle sigh and he feels his hair flutter as the first drops begin to fall. They're cold and scattered; almost as if the sky is holding back its tears. The right words, the wrong memory. Those are the words that she'd said when he'd given her the necklace from Ireland. It had been a Celtic knot on a silver chain and she hadn't taken it off. Not until that summer.

The rain was falling faster, harder, colder, and he shivered, crouching before the plaque and brushing away some of the forest residue, fingers tracing over words that were too dark to read but were nevertheless imprinted upon his brain. "It's not that lovely Sam. It's just a piece of metal that no one else knows about but me."

I'll cherish it forever.

"Why?" he whispers despite himself, listening as his teeth chatter in the cold.

Because you gave it to me.

"That's not a very good reason."

"Odd?" Her voice is subdued and the sky is dark with approaching clouds, approaching rain. He knows he shouldn't be out here but she…she was right. He was addicted. Maybe not to her, but to insuring her well being. "Odd, why won't you talk to me?"

"Can we just get this over with?" He feels torn up inside, nauseous and dizzy. He isn't sure if he's actually sick or just feeling remnants of guilt. She glances up at him, a chain of flowers clutched in her hands and he feels the bile rise in his throat. Not at her, at himself.

"Is that all I am now? All that these nights are now? A 'this'?" she demands, standing and marching over to him. "Go on then Odd; just leave if that's what you want to do!"

"Sam…" He's tired and he has a Physics test tomorrow morning. He doesn't need her drug-induced rage tonight, definitely not tonight.

"No Odd, don't try and 'Sam' your way out of it! No one's forcing you to come here every night! You do that on your own! Your own bloody fucking own!" she screams. She jabs a finger at him, pressing the sharp nail into the center of his chest, forcing him to take a step back. "I used to mean something to you Odd. Something! Now all you do is show up late and look hassled. I don't need it!"

"I don't fucking need you getting high every night either Sammie!" he growled, glaring at her. "You're right; you did used to mean something to me. When you were still on this damn planet, not floating up in the clouds somewhere!"

"You're just as addicted as I am. Admit it. Otherwise you wouldn't be here this very instant, arguing with me."

"I don't want to come here and find you dead Samantha!" he yelled. She stops and he takes a deep breath as thunder rumbles and the air turns heavy with the promise of rain. "I don't want to find your body here and wonder if I could have done something to save you. That's why I come here."

Her gaze is stormy, a mirror to the sky above and he feels the chill in the air all the more. "Consider me dead then Odd. Consider me dead and get the hell away from me."

"Sam…" he tried as she turned away.

"Stay away from me!" she screamed, spinning to face him. "No. Wait." She took a step up and slapped him soundly across the face and he felt sudden warmth when her nail sliced his cheek, blood trickling. "I accept me for what I am and I accept me for cheating on you. You cheated on me too Odd, I know you did. I don't know who with but at least, even in my druggie stupor I was able and willing to tell you that. You have no excuse and yet I was willing to forgive you."

"Sam!"

"Goodbye, Odd."

"I'm sorry Sam." He presses his fist to his forehead, blocking out the images that assault his mind. Time will ease the pain, time will let him heal. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply. "I'm so sorry Samantha."

I forgive you.

"You should never have forgiven me. I didn't…don't…deserve it." He sighs and looks back down at the plaque. "I came out here, accusing you of trying to tell me something, of haunting me, but I don't think it was really your fault. Maybe…Maybe it just took me this long to figure it out."

Odd…do you miss me Odd?

"Every damn day," he murmurs in response. His eyes slip shut and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out the small pocket knife he keeps there. Opening his eyes he observes the blade as he opens it, staring at it, open, close, open, close. "Why did you do it Sam? Did you sit here like I am, talking to yourself, imagining a better life? Did, did I do it to you? Did I make you do it?"

I love you Odd and I always will. Always.

"You said I cheated on you Sam. You never gave me the chance to respond. I never did, never would. You…you were still mine Sam, back then. I thought…I wanted to, but I didn't. I only wish you had given me the same consideration." He laughs bitterly. "Was it for the drugs? Was that why you started to sleep with Henry Levin?"

Drunken stupidity…

"Was it? Or was it because you were high?" He sighs; hunching his shoulders and feeling his clothes cling to his skin. "I've fallen for someone else Sammie, but I can't get you out of my head. Do you know how hard it is, to be in love with someone who's alive yet to love someone who isn't?"

You've lost interest in me.

"Your life was rough Sammie but you're the one who chose to end it, to run away from your problems with help from heroine. I tried Sam, I tried so hard but I couldn't get through and in the end it didn't matter, did it?" He closes his eyes again, fingers sliding along the slick blade. "It would be so easy to follow in your footsteps right now, just a little slice and…that's all it would take, wouldn't it?"

You're just as addicted as I am.

"You were wrong then Sammie and you're wrong now." He takes a breath, opening his eyes. "I'm not addicted and I never was addicted. To drugs or you. You were intoxicating but you didn't, couldn't, pull me under all the way." He smiles faintly, fingers tracing the letters once more. "You made sure of that by pushing me away." He stood, wincing at the pain and feels the warmth of blood escaping his knee once more but pushes the thought away. "I'm stronger than you Sammie; I won't surrender like you did."

The rain continued to fall, pinpricks of ice against his skin and the wind blew the water into his eyes. He can't understand it now, can't hear her voice in it like before. He smiles in relief, tilting his chin back so that the rain hits his face, erases all evidence of the tears that had been leaking from his eyes.

Goodbye, Odd.

One last whisper on the end of the wind and he feels the smile split, a grin forming, and a laugh bubbling. He takes another look at the knife before throwing it onto the ground in front of the plaque. With one last look at the words, the pond, the clearing, he turns, making his way slowly toward the wood, toward the path that will lead him back to butter yellow lights and dry clothes.

"Goodbye Sam," he whispers as he leaves the clearing behind.