A/N: I just sat and re-read "Bodies in Bed," and I think I might have cried once or twice...or three times. But, you know. Who's counting? Hopefully, not my faithful and always-understanding husband. (Cough cough...hehehe.) Oh, goodness. Here come the waterworks. Hey. Guess what? More OC fanfiction, bitches. Enjoy this wonderful CRAAAPPP!
"Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken. Hello. I'm the lie living for you so you can hide..."
Stages of Grief
My world is lonely; empty. I am broken, inside and out. I can feel my blood running subzero through my useless veins. I try to pretend everything isn't falling apart around me, for the sake of those who care about me...I try to smile pretty just for you.
But...
...you didn't have to leave me like this, did you?
Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry...
They tell me that your gone, but what am I supposed to believe anymore? Especially when you promised me that you would never go away; you said you'd protect me forever.
How do you plan to carry that out inside a tomb?
You could have tried to fight it...couldn't you?
I guess talking to the wall isn't so bad. You were a lot more fun. I mean, the wall listens and all, but...you talked back. You explained things I didn't understand. You made me laugh.
But for now, the wall will have to do.
Maybe fill the void that sits in my stomach.
I can still look in the mirror and see you in my reflection. We aren't so different now. I can't sleep anymore, either. After I watched you die...my sleepless nights are only filled with nightmares. Is that what happened to you? Did you witness something tragic? Or was it something inside you that made you that way...? Is that why we now share the dark bags beneath our eyes?
Now, I suppose I'll never know.
It's okay, though. I'll just keep smiling for you.
Until the day I die.
That's a promise one of us can keep.
He fell.
Maybe that's when I lost myself completely. It had to be that exact moment when he fell from his chair onto the ground, trying to capture his last seconds of life, I knew that I wasn't ever going to be that same.
He fell.
And I screamed.
Because I knew. I knew. The Eyes don't lie...
...and no Shinigami was going to spare him.
He hit the ground with a 'thud', the kind that sounded like flesh colliding with a solid surface. I don't remember screaming like Matsuda told me I did, but I just assume he was right. I do remember falling to my knees, hearing inside my own head the breaking of bones. I remember the way the computer light's ominous red glow shined in his glossy eyes. I was losing him...
He was dying. Going. Leaving.
I crawled over to him, weeping to myself, having the urge to touch him; feel him. I had to know that this wasn't a horrible nightmare...
I placed my hand under his fragile head, lifting it from the tiles. In the process, red blood oozed from between my fingers and onto the floor. I can remember the feel of it on my hand, the way it's warmth nearly gave me comfort.
I looked into his eyes, now wider than they had ever been before. The charcoal color of them was now fading and the red glow replaced it. His cold fingers barely found mine in an effort to get my attention. I left our linked fingers on his waist and held back a shriek. It was as if I could feel him withering away beneath my palm. I was so terrified that it began to hurt. My rib cage ached at the sight of the raven-haired man trying to find his breath. Hot, boiling tears found the floor rather quickly.
"K...K-ki..." His voice was so low and hoarse as he choked out the beginning of my name. This was the end. It was the end of my love's life...
"L, L, L, shh. Don't...please, don't go. Please, PLEASE," I begged, wishing that I could will him to live. If only...
"S-s-sorry..." He whispered, his thumb running over the skin of my fingers one last time before his eyes closed, the pale flesh hiding his dying pain.
"NO! NO! STOP! Don't be sorry! JUST LIVE! LIVE! Don't go away...I need you! We need you! I can't live without you here! YOU PROMISED! You...you...you promised me..." The sound of my own voice rang through the room like a siren as my cries for L became louder and louder. The end was here. The end was here. God, this hurt...
"L, I LOVE YOU! THAT MEANS YOU CAN'T GO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME! What about me...? What am I supposed to do----" I began to wail, moving my hand to his back to lift him from the ground and press him to my chest. This was wrong. It was wrong to not feel his heart beat again my own. It was impossibly wrong for his skin to be this cold and soft...Everything was spinning in circles, and I felt so dizzy. I screamed, wishing my lungs would give out; maybe that everything would give out. I didn't want to be alive. I didn't want to be in love with a dead man...
"I miss you already," I whispered into his ear, rocking the both of us back and forth, wanting a reply so badly that I almost expected one. Colors began to blur all together into one, and the calls and yells of my fellow co-workers was the last thing I saw before the ground came up to meet me.
"Kitty..." Matsuda's voice was pleading as I entered the room. His voice was now permenantly like that, now that L was gone. It was a firm, but disappointed tone. I ignored it like I ignored all other things. I pushed my hands into the pockets of the jeans I was wearing and looked at him blankly.
"What?"
"Please...go change," He lowered his voice, looking as if he was going to cry. I glanced down at my white t-shirt, the way it was so baggy on my tiny frame as did the dark, demin jeans around my nearly non-existent waist. I shrugged, sitting quietly in the chair next to him.
"Why? Does it bother you?" I wigged my bare toes, noticing how numb they felt in the cold air. I didn't dare look at the older man, hearing him sigh and lean forward.
"Kitty, this has got to stop," He began, running his fingers through his shortened brown locks, "You can't keep disregarding every little thing the therapist tells you. This is unhealth--"
"Well, fuck him in his big, fat ass. It's my life, not his. Maybe he's the one that needs advice, like, stop eating everything in your vision or get on a fucking tredmill," I replied monotonly, letting the words fall on him and the purely desperate look on his face return. Matsuda stood, walking towards me before squatting down beside me.
"Kitty, sweety...you don't think you can bring him back by doing this, do you?" I picked at my nails.
"...maybe..."
"It doesn't work that way...and I know, you loved him--"
"Just shut the fuck up, okay? You don't know anything about what I felt for him. So just lay the fuck off already..." My voice broke and I stood up swiftly, hiding on coming tears that hid behind my eyes.
"Kitty...please, please, please, PLEASE...just, please stop this. Stop it," Wrapping his arms around he comfortingly, Matsuda began to mumbled into my shoulder, stroking my hair in the process, "We all miss him. We all do, so very badly. If I could have one more day with him...we all know that it hurts you the most. He was your savior when you needed one the most. You loved him and he loved you. It has to hurt so much for you..." I stood, stiff against his touch, biting my lip in the silence of his pause,"...but, he died loving you. He died gallent, fighting Kira every step of the way. He was so proud of you, too, Kitty. He was so proud of you..."
"Stop it, please..." I whispered at an inaudiable level.
"He told me that you were shaping up to being a wonderful detective,"
"Stop. Now,"
"You were the first person he ever loved--"
"Matsuda, just stop it! Okay?! So, we were so perfect for each other and he was proud of me! That's never going to make up for the fact that he's GONE! I can never have him back! He was mine, damn it! Now he's six feet under and it's all Light's fault! Don't you dare deny it, you bastard, either, because I know you don't think he's Kira! But he is and he killed my poor L-kun..." I pushed the older man away and let myself fall to the floor. I sat, feet sprawled out in both directions, pressing my face against my palms.
"He killed him, he killed him, he killed him...he didn't want to die. He was so scared," I vaguely began to remember out in the rain, standing on the roof, holding him as he explained what he feared was to come that day...
Matsuda kneeled down onto the cold tile and scooped me up, pressing me to him. He was so warm...and I still felt so numb. He placed his hand on the top of my head, letting me scream into his chest. I could feel my stomach rise and fall as I let out all the pent up frustration and hate and fear...
"W-w-wh-whatarewe...we gonna d-do without him?" I cried into the fabric of his shirt, feeling his heart beat against my cheek (-it feels so wrong, it feels to wrong-).
"I have no clue, Kitty-chan," Matsuda replied solemnly, placing a hand on my back and running it along my spine, soothingly. My breathing was becoming more and more steady, and without noticing it, I fell into warm, comfortable slumber.
A dreamless, numb, but comfortable slumber...
"Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping...Hello, I'm still here,
All that's left of yesterday..."
Not everyone goes through the five stages of grief. Some people go through four stages, some go through none at all. Some people don't even grieve or feel remorse.
Sometimes, it's best to go through all the stages. It heals the pain as best as a wound that deep can be healed. It seals the fate and lets the idea sink in that you are never going to see that person again. They cannot be willed back to life, and crying will do nothing.
The length of time it takes to go through the stages and finally reach acceptance varies, completely depending on the personality of an individual. For some people, it can take a few days. For others, it takes months or years to finally feel whole again.
And for those of us who still can't feel warmth, only numbness, in their hearts, we will never forget or accept the death of a loved one.
This wall may listen, but it will never respond to any bit of this. I plan on painting your face on it sometime soon. I won't do it while I wear your shirt, though. I don't want to ruin it. It isn't really mine, after all. I'm just borrowing it, really.
When I paint your picture, I'll paint you with charcoal eyes and raven hair and dark black bags beneath your eyes, just like mine. I'll make sure you look just as beautiful as you did before your untimely death. I'll paint every stroke with pure and utter love for you.
...I'll paint you with a smile on your face.