Don't own Cirque, never will! I want to, but stupid copyright laws prevent me from stealing Darren Shan's words. He is such a genius he thinks to copyright it… Silly, silly man, maybe I should send him cookies…?
Sum: Darren wasn't the same, he didn't talk, he didn't smile, he locked himself away from the eyes of prejudgement. He cried, but he was strong. He was strong to not let what he had crumble.
Title: Pick up the pieces and make a pretty collage.
A/N: Hello, it seemed I was an immigrant of this fandom but in the words of Mr Tiny in the disappointing film, I HAVE RETURNED! I haven't read it yet because I can't bring myself too but I know that Crepsley dies but what it lacks in precision it makes up in emotion.
Pick up the Pieces and make a pretty collage.
He couldn't let it burn him anymore. He couldn't let it pull him apart like he was made of cotton wool. He wanted to but he couldn't. It had been a month. A month since the floorboards that held him fell through and left him a vulnerable heap.
He was betrayed. He was left. He was absolutely alone.
The darkness seemed to suffocate him, pushing him and pulling him, crushing him with its heavy stares. It was just too real and so it should have been. It was his reality. It wasn't like he could wake up and it would go away because it wouldn't. It just wouldn't.
He didn't have anyone to cover his mistakes. He was completely exposed; it was his responsibility to serve justice, to fix what fate was leaving behind. He had to do it and he would. Whatever he was going to do, he was risking his life.
Tears plagued his eyes. He felt weightless, like he was walking on nothing. Like he was falling into a black hole of regret, he had a lot that remained unsaid. A lot he wished he could scream to him and he'd hear but he heard nothing. His back was turned. He didn't try hard enough to stop it, he didn't shout loud enough. He fell into the background. He was a tiny, innocent mouse in a vampire world of hate and honour. He didn't belong anymore.
The tent doors were slammed shut and locked. He wasn't up to seeing people. Evra had tried to get him to open up. So had Hibernius but no amount of 'It'll be okay's' would make it any better. Nothing was clear. He didn't need the ambiguity that had been piled onto him in heaps. Why Steve? Of all people it was Steve. His best friend, the innocent one in it all, the one who had done nothing, hadn't been involved in Vampires at all… or so he thought.
His eyes closed. So many questions, so little time, so much confusion, so little clarity. His eyes seeped with tears. Every bit of emotion conveyed in the tiniest of droplets. The sun seemed to fade. It seemed as though the world that he used to admire and be inspired by was nothing. It was meaningless and pointless.
"Darren please talk to me." Evra mumbled from outside. "I'm your best friend and last time I checked, it was me who you can tell anything to. I won't tell anyone, I promise." He stepped towards the door and yanked the lock open. The door slipped free and swung open. Evra grinned and swiped the tear from his cheek. "Hey."
"Hey." His voice was broken. Every word dripped with emotion.
"How are you holding up?" It was a stupid question. The most important person to him was dead and he was asking how he was holding up.
"I've uh… I've been better." Evra bit his lip, stepping inside the clammy, dim room.
"Wanna talk about it?" It was a cliché question that was obviously going to be asked but he couldn't help it. He had to ask the cliché's that made it harder. Darren nodded and sat cross-legged on the floor. "Okay." He smiled and sat next to Darren, the remnants of his happiness clung to the walls in memories of better times.
"I miss him Evra. He annoyed me to hell and he always nagged at me to stop biting my nails and to stop moaning about training but it's just not the same without him. It's like something is missing. I just want him back. I'd give anything. I need him Evra. I feel lost." He placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and smiled.
"I know. I know how you feel. You feel lost, betrayed, left on your own. But it doesn't have to be like that Darren. Try and remember him, yes remember him but don't think about him 24/7 because it's only showing you how betrayed you feel. It's like you've been left on a desert island with no one to help you but you can remember the memories and still be happy. Remember the time he got drunk and climbed that tree? Huh? Good memories you will never forget. That time we baked them cookies? I got kicked out of ASDA and we've not been back since but we've still got the basket. It was amazing." He chuckled distantly at the memories. "Oh, that time Crepsley got locked in his coffin and it took three of us and Rhamus to get him out!" They both chuckled.
"Yeah. Good times hmm?" They both nodded and looked at the pictures on the wall. "The best times." Darren grinned and pulled a box of memories from beneath the bed. "There's Gavner on our holiday to Pontins with Rory the Tiger. There's Arra poking a small child with a stick. There's Crepsley at Mount Rushmore on our summer trip to America." Pictures strewn across the floor recalled memories long gone, memories they wanted to live again and again. The best one was Gavner and Crepsley in Mexican sombreros. With the pictures, he somehow, someway managed to pick up the pieces and built a pretty little collage.
A/N: Hope you liked. I will update all the long lost fics that have been thrown into my endless closet of unfinished crap. Please review and I will love you forever.