Disclaimer: I don't own them, so please don't sue me.
A/N: This is a completely AU fic. Yes, it is sad but still really hopeful at the same time. The romantic in me couldn't write an unhappy ending.
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Realizations
By Elaine
"All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid"
"My last breath" Evanescence
I'm not going to cry. I mean it. I'm not going to. I can't. Not now. After he leaves, I can: I will.
I don't think anyone expected this. Maybe I did. Maybe I just fooled myself for so long that I started to believe the lies I was telling myself. But everyone else: Frasier, Roz, Martin, they didn't think this would happen.
The ironic thing is that it's Niles that's leaving and not me. It's probably easier for me to leave. I mean, technically speaking, I don't actually belong here. I'm a legal alien. But it was Niles who realized that he couldn't stay. Niles who realized that after living here for most of his adult life there was something, some part of him missing.
So that's why I'm standing in the middle of Seattle airport surrounded by people yet feeling completely alone.
Niles is standing next to me, his suitcase in one hand, and my hand in the other. If you looked fleetingly at us you would think that Niles is going on a weekend business trip. It's only when-if- you look closer you see that he's carrying far too much luggage and my eyes are dead from crying and acceptance.
It feels so strange to say that. Acceptance. What a scary word. I've done the rest of them: denial, guilt, anger. And now, now I understand. I understand that he doesn't- that he can't stay. That as much as I believe I belong here, he doesn't.
Don't get me wrong. This wasn't a snap decision. Niles didn't wake up one morning and realize that he wasn't happy. Strangely enough, this isn't even about me. Roz finds that really hard to believe. I can still remember the conversation we had.
"How can you not say this isn't about you?" Roz asked in disbelief. "He's leaving, and he's supposed to love you! Really?!"
I looked over at my best friend shaking my head with quiet despair. "He does." I replied knowingly. "But he's not going to be happy if he stays. Even with me." I added quietly.
I looked over at Roz. "Is it so hard for you to understand? Is it so hard for you to realize that I would rather see Niles happy without me than unhappy with me? That I would rather feel a connection to him through a computer screen and a letter than having him sit next to me and feel completely alone."
But Roz does have a point. I know Niles loves me. I know that this is just as hard -maybe harder-for him than it is for me. I think it scared him when he realized. I think he fought against it for so long. I mean, after 7 years you're finally with the woman you've worshipped for so long. Then 6 months later the dawning realization that you don't belong in the place you've called home for most of your adult life. But you still love the woman standing next to you. Yeah, that's scary.
I don't even know where he'll end up. Nor does Niles. He has a ticket to Boston, and after that: who knows? He wanted to see the leaves changing from summer to fall. I bit back my response that wasn't that a metaphor for his life. That everything in him, for him, was changing. Instead I smiled in that way I have. All secretive and knowing.
When Niles first told me, I wasn't shocked. Scared; yes. Shocked; no. I think I had been expecting it, or maybe that's the hindsight talking. All I could think about was 'everyone I love, leaves.' I know that sounds really strange coming from me. Look at my record: Clive, Joe, Donny. I left before they did. My stupid, angry way of walking away in defiance: believing that I was stronger because I walked away. I know I wasn't stronger: they were. Because I didn't walk away in defiance: I ran away: scared.
With Niles there was no walking away. No running away. Believe me, I wanted to run. Literally and metaphorically. Lying in bed with him last night was one of the hardest things I have ever done.
I reached for him when I woke up, stroking his body to wake him up. It was only when he asked if I wanted this: if I wanted to be with him one last time, that I stopped. That I realized I didn't know. That maybe all of Niles's society friends were right and I was good for only one thing: that he was slumming it with the help.
He hates it when I talk like that. Because to him I've never been the help. I've been Daphne. I'm the woman he talks to, the woman he folds laundry with. He remembers what my favourite colour is, even if I've mentioned it only once, years ago. He knows about all my brothers and the insane Moon family. He knows my likes and dislikes: my fear of thunderstorms and my love for cold, crisp, mornings when the snow lies on the ground.
We talked about me staying at the Montana. Niles said that he would pay the rent, but I can't. There are too many memories tied up there. Us living four lives instead of the two that were the most important: ours. I can't go back and live there, smelling Niles's scent when I walked through the door. Thinking that I was going to turn a corner and see him there; smiling at me.
Nor do I live under the misapprehension that Niles will ask me to come and be with him. Maybe he will. If not, then maybe it's not meant to be. That our belief that we were meant to be: that we were together in another life was written in lust and truthfulness. I don't have the answers anymore. I don't know if I ever did.
All I know is that my independence is becoming co-dependence. I hadn't relied on anyone until Niles. Not Clive, not even Donny who I was supposed to marry. No one. Not until Niles.
When I told him this morning he smiled and said "I know." Then he turned away and scribbled something down. He folded the paper up before he handed it to me.
"Don't open it." he said quietly.
I looked across at him. "Ok."
"Are you ready?" he asked.
I nodded, unable to speak.
That was 2 hours ago. Niles touched my arm, and jolted me out of my reverie.
"I have to go." he says simply, pointing towards the departure board.
I nod my head, and I'm not going to cry. Not yet.
"Walk with me?" he asks, holding his arm out to me and I take it, half smiling as I feel the first tears roll out.
We walk to the departure lounge in silence. Two people cleaving their souls apart. Niles stands at the desk and hands his passport over. Then he turns and looks at me. And I drown. For the first, for the hundred thousandth time. I stare at him: committing his face to memory, imprinting it behind my eyelids.
He doesn't say anything. Just reaches over and wipes my tears away, running his hand through my hair as he does so. And I want him to stay so much. But I won't say it. Because I won't hurt him that much. Niles bends his head and kisses me: so softly, so full of love that all my strength leaves me.
He picks up his hand luggage and walks through. I stare at his retreating figure and then turn and run. Run past the departure lounge, up the escalator to the viewing area. I know which plane is his. I run past everyone, my heels echoing on the floor. Until I stop and look out the window. My free hand pressed against the glass.
The plane turns and does its circuit of the runway. I hear the engine start and stupidly look over my shoulder expecting to see him standing there. Then I feel the piece of paper digging into my hand. I open it and the tears flow now: hot, scalding. And I fall to the floor, and let the paper fall in front of me. And I read the words again. Niles's distinctive scrawl staring back at me.
0787 335 97654
NilesCranepsych.net.
You are not alone.
Niles.
XX