Don't Think of Me That
Way
Author's note: felt like angst and this idea just went BANG! Right into my lap! Wow! It took me fifteen minutes to write this and I'm incredibly proud of it for some obscene reason. Hope you like. Um, it's more Arnaud. My forte. Um…okay…on to the fic. Maybe I'll think of something to add later…. ^_^;;
The
voices around me are growing dim.
So
is my vision. It's clouding over.
No
one cares that I am dying; they are too preoccupied with their own fighting
right now. Maybe sometime later they'll notice my cold body lying here in a
pool of my own crimson blood. Or maybe I'll just be left here.
I
can hear the sounds of guns firing and suddenly, silence. Complete, utter, dead
silence.
And
then a voice.
You?
What are you doing
here? This is my home. You're not supposed to know about it!
Maybe
you won't notice me.
I
hope not.
"HOBBES!"
you yell, whirling, gun in hand. "Have you found him yet?"
And
you're talking about me.
"No,
partner!" Hobbes yells back, "But I'm pretty damn sure he's dead. I don't think
anyone's alive!"
If
I had the strength, I would laugh.
Then
you look in my direction. "Oh Jesus."
"Fawkes."
I manage to croak your name out.
"Oh
Jesus…not this all over again, please, not Kevin again." You whisper weakly, kneeling
beside me in the puddle of blood.
It
soaks the knees of your khaki pants and stains them rusty-colored.
"Fawkes,"
I croak again, "I'm dying."
You
nod.
"I
just want to ask one thing of you."
You
nod again and bite your lip. Your eyes are glittering. For me?
"I
killed your brother, and I made your life hell. I chased you and didn't care
what happened to you."
You
nod once more, stuffing your gun in your coat. "Yeah." Your hair is in disarray
and I can see the bags under your eyes.
"And
I never thought I'd die at this age. It was always a risk, but I didn't think…"
"It
was actually gonna happen."
I
smile tiredly. "Or that I was going to die with you sitting right here beside
me. Listening to me dictate my last wishes as my internal organs hemorrhage."
A
tear trickles down your cheek and you catch it with your tongue.
"Darien…I
only want one thing of you. When I am dead, which will be soon, and after that,
when you think back on me, if you do at all, don't think of me as a villain.
Don't think of me that way, please."
You
nod.
My
purpose is fulfilled. I can feel my strength slipping away, and apparently you
can see it too.
"Good-bye,
Fawkes. Live a healthy life, please. Take care of yourself. The most important
thing in your body isn't the gland, it's me, if you do at all, don't think of
me as a villain. Don't think of me that way, please."
You
nod.
My
purpose is fulfilled. I can feel my strength slipping away, and apparently you
can see it too.
"Good-bye,
Fawkes. Live a healthy life, please. Take care of yourself. The most important
thing in your body isn't the gland, it's you."
You
nod. There are tears flowing down your cheeks freely now. I understand; losing
your enemy can sometimes be worse than losing a friend.
Suddenly
there's a light in your eyes, and you look strong again. Like the Darien Fawkes
I'm used to. Defiant. You clear your throat.
"Good-bye,
Arnaud de Thiel, my friend."
**END**
Andi:
* yowls* IT TURNED SLASHY AGAIN!
* muses
cower *
* Andi
gets the Evil Poisoned Scythe of Death out and threatens her muses. *