VA: Hiya all! This is a one shot bye my friend Storm, well that's her penname.
CL: This is a really good story!
VA: This is what we like to call happy angst cuz it has either a happy ending or a semi-happy ending.
CL: Anyway, we don't own Yugioh and neither does Storm.
!@#$%^' …my friend's story… whatever.
This Sorta Fairytale
-Serenity's P.O.V.-
~.~.~.~.~.~.~
I miss my brother. And as I sit here in this gray, dingy hospital room, I reflect on how his perpetual cheer could have brightened this place right up. But I'll never see his big, sweet, goofy, smile again, will I? Next to me, Tristan leans against the wall; his lanky frame looks cramped in the small, pleather chair. Actually, we all fee uncomfortable in this place, as none of us belong here.
None of us, but Seto. Only he belongs here, and only he should stay here, in all of this gray starch that is the hospital room, smelling of disinfectant that masks the stench of death. There is a silence that hangs over all of us, a thick cloud broken only by the slow beep of the heart monitor. Tristan shifts uncomfortably, and I cough.
Only us here now- only us and Seto. "Joey should be here," I whisper to Tristan. "Not us."
"Yes, he should!" Tristan whispers back fiercely. His gaze slowly shifts to Seto, lying still and cold on the bedside. "But he's not, now is he?" Then, he falls silent. Perhaps he's remembered that we're talking about my brother. But we haven't seen him for at least a year.
One year and a day since Seto was shot in an assassination attempt. The assailant shot him twice in the chest and once in the stomach. One more year and a day that same assailant hasn't been caught. One more year and a day that Seto still "sleeps". In this awful, cold room. And one more year and a day that Joey hasn't shown his face. Nobody knows where he went, and sometimes, at night, I have to grasp for memories of him. I don't want him to fade from my life, even though I'm starting to forget him. Slowly, bit my bit, we're all starting to. But we still come to see Seto. The doctors are starting to give up hope on him. They say that his chances aren't very good, that he may never wake. But Tristan and I haven't given up on either Seto or Joey.
"Do you… do you think we should go?" Tristan asks, and I nod mutely. And yet, neither of us moves. It's a ritual we go through every time; the question, the nod, then, we end up staying anyway. Maybe, we're waiting for Joey. I reach across the distance to touch Seto's hand. It's as cold as ice. I withdraw my hand hastily, and turn to Tristan. "I really don't like it here Tristan…" He pats my shoulder reassuringly, as Joey used to do. A wave of sadness washes over me, and a lump springs to my throat. I wipe away the tear pricks, and glance up at him.
"It's gonna be ok, Serenity." I try to laugh, but it comes out as a bitter chuckle. "You sound like Seto's doctors." He shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly. And still Seto remains still, and deathly pale. He looks dead, cheeks sunken in and waxen, and not at all like he's sleeping. Those wires and tubes poking into his skin and stretching back to the IV are all enough proof of that.
"I wish Joey were here," I mumbled. "I wish my brother were here. He'd make this all better." I gesture helplessly at out dismal surroundings. Tristan reaches out and enfolds me in a hug. He smells comforting, his arms are strong, and not at all like hi belongs in this horrible room. "Oh, Serenity." He murmurs, and it comes out as a sigh. "Nothing's going to make this better, Serenity." Then, we both turn back to Seto, and wait. For what, I don't know. For him to wake up? I hope so… but he won't wake up. Not without Joey. So, I listen to the dull, steady 'beep' of the heart monitor. Slowly, steadily… beep, beep, beep… and then, something's wrong. I can feel it. It takes me a moment to realize what it is- silence.
The monitor is silent. The beep has gone flat. And Seto is gone. I stare mutely at it, that harsh, lifeless green line that seems to mock us, and so does Tristan. Then, the tears start to flow. The trickle down my face, and I make no move to wipe them off. And when I look up at Tristan, I'm surprised; he's crying too. So, we sat there, holding onto each other, and watching the flat line, and Seto, and the cold, dead room. After a few moments, I wipe the tears off my face, and shake Tristan's shoulder gently.
"Should we go tell someone?" He nods quietly. And yet again, neither of us moves. Seto is… well, dead and gone. But then, a soft click makes us both turn. The doorknob is turning, and then the door creaks open. And into the room, steps a familiar face. The mussed blond bangs that hang perpetually in the soft brown eyes, and the goofy grin that is now absent. Joey swallows nervously, and stares at us.
"I'm sorry." And yet, we all know what he means. We know how much he means to us at this moment, and we always will. And then, I fling myself into his arms, and Tristan awkwardly pats his shoulder. Joey pulls him into the hug. We stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other's arms, and I never want to let my brother go again. But I do, then step back, because I know what he has to do.
He steps slowly by us, to kneel by the bedside. It's almost as if he's in a dreamlike state, as he takes Seto's hand, and slowly brings it to his lips. With his other hand, he softly strokes the marble white side of Seto's face. "I'm so sorry…" He mumbles. "I'm so sorry Seto." And he repeats that over and over, faster and faster, while the tears rain on Seto's lifeless face. We're all helpless, here, in this dank room. As Tristan and I finally stand, we continue to watch Joey sob and clutch Seto's hand. And we sob too. Then, a faint noise catches my ear. The sound of someone… singing. I tug at Tristan's sleeve.
"Do you hear that?" He nods faintly. "Yeah… I think it's Joey." He's right; it is my brother. And he's singing in his rough, wonderful voice. He's softly singing something to Seto, something private and wonderful, something he should have said before. A lullaby, full of love, sorrow and passion. I look up at Tristan, who is hastily wiping his eyes. But, some tears refuse to leave his eyes. "What is he saying Tristan?" My voice soft, afraid, that if I speak too loudly, my brother will go away.
"He's saying…" He pauses then goes on. "He's saying how much he loves 'im. And how beautiful his is. And how much he misses him." And while Joey repeats these verses, alternately stroking Seto's hand and wiping tears away, I hear something. Very faintly, but growing louder. But only Tristan and I hear it. Only Tristan and I hear the heart monitor start up again. Only we hear Seto's heartbeat grow stronger once again. And only we see the faint flicker of movement as his hand twitches ever-so-slightly, as if to grasp Joey's. Both of us gape openly, but my brother doesn't notice. And then, my tears flow again, but they're different now.
They're tears of relief, and joy. And as they fall down my cheeks and drip to the floor, I tug on Tristan's sleeve again. "Tristan?"
"Yeah Serenity?"
I smiled over at the bedside, where Joey remains, and Seto finally lives again. Slowly, but surely, he lives. And he may, someday, somehow, wake up. "Sometimes…" I struggle to find the right words. "This is…" Then, it hits me, and I smile softly up at him. "This is a sorta fairytale, Tristan. Some sorta fairytale."
~.~Fini~.~
A/N: Yes. It's happy angst. And I really hope I didn't screw it up, since I've never tried happy angst before. So if you don't like it… though. And if you do, I shall bottle you and stick you on my desk to praise daily. But anyway… the authoress appreciates feedback. No, I mean it. She really does. So… err, giver her feedback. Otherwise she will be most unhappy, stalk you, and then poke you with a coat hanger and a large salmon until you giver her some. But don't let it frighten you that she talks about herself in third person. So, please, feedback, people, feedback. Otherwise… ~Waves large salmon and coat hanger menacingly~ Until then, my readers. Ja ne, my friends.
~!@#$%^: end my friend's story… yeah…
VA: So, there's my friend's story. What did you think? Ok, I admit, I did tweak a few things. But with her permission.
CL: Yesh. And she likes to talk about herself in third person.
VA: And no, she can't really stalk you.
Storm: Yes I can…
VA: That's cuz you know where I live. *Gets into Funny-Bunny suit of doom* -which was stolen from Pegasus and washed thoroughly. Very much.- *Chases Storm*
Storm: ~Takes out coat hanger~ Poke, poke! ~takes fencing stance~
VA: *whips out a long carrot and takes fencing stance* MWAH!!
CL: Well, umm. While they're doing that, you leave a pretty review for Storm-Chan. Yeah, the little button that says 'GO'. Click it.