Fifty Shades of Perfection
This is set many years after the 50 shades trilogy ends. It's just something that popped into my head. It's sad, happy and everything in between. I don't own the characters they are borrowed and will be returned unharmed...:)
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Anastasia Grey just stared at the headstone, she still couldn't believe it was real, that it was true. But she knew it was. They had had so many firsts together, and had ended with so many lasts, sadly and reluctantly. She remembered the final last.
Christian sighs and shifts in his sleep, his brow furrowing for a moment as he does, and then his eyes flutter open.
"Hey baby" he tries a smile but it turns into a grimace as pain overwhelms him again.
"Hi" I try to smile but mine is a painful grimace too, my beautiful Christian is fading before my eyes, my amazing fifty is now bones and sallow skin. His amazing grey eyes look too large for his weathered face and his once glittering copper hair is white and dull and sparse.
He shifts in the bed and I move to allow him room, since his illness really took hold I have wanted to sleep in the cot bed that the nurses do when he is really bad, but he won't have it.
"No Ana" he'd say, in that tone that I know so well, sounding like his old self again "We are husband and wife and I have never spent more nights away from you than has been absolutely necessary. You sleep here, next to me, where you belong"
"But Christian..." I'd try "You're in pain..."
"If I am disturbing your sleep, then that's different" he allows "But if it's for me, the answer is no"
He knows me too well my fifty.
But today something is different, I heard him murmur for more pain relief to the nurse, which he's never done. It burns somewhere deep in my soul that my own useless body is so riddled with painful joints and restricted movement that I cannot care for my husband any longer. I want to, and I try, but Christian sees me struggle and it was he that called in the nurses to help me. He won't entertain the kids and grandkids doing it.
His eyes flutter and I sense a change in his breathing. I look at the picture on the bedside cabinet and think once again that even in his eighties, before this illness ravaged him, my husband is a stunning man.
I curl up around him, trying to push my life force into his but I know it's useless, he opens his eyes again and smiles properly this time.
"Thank you Ana" he whispers, three words loaded with almost 60 years worth of emotion.
With supreme effort he reaches up and wipes my tears away, placing the arm around my shoulders and my old head slides onto his bony chest. I choke a sob as I listen to his heart beat.
"I love you Christian" I say quietly.
He strokes my hair but his hand is uncoordinated and heavy "I love you Ana, I'll always be here, don't cry baby"
"I'm sorry"
"Your lips are so soft when you cry..." his words tail off before he comes back stronger "My Ana...Laters baby..."
And I listen to his wonderful heart, and the awful sound of him dragging in breath shallows and softens, he tightens his arm around me and I painfully tip my head to look at him. I wonder how many times we have lain like this over our years and as I do I realise that this is it. I'll never do it again.
Panic seizes me and I tense, ready to dash, or rather shuffle to the door and scream for the nurse, for the children...but almost imperceptibly Christian shakes his head.
And then there is silence, and I know my fifty has gone. He has fought and lost a battle with his own body, and died with me in his arms, the way he wanted to. He didn't want our son and daughter to see this, despite the protestations. He wanted it to be just us, and I am glad that I got this final last with him.
Ana looks at her son, aged in his own way now. Then her daughter, under the shelter of her brothers arms. They are both so like their father in their own special ways. Ana remembers her last promise to Christian.
"Ana" he struggles to sit up and my tired eyes glance at the clock 3am. Does he need pain relief? My creaking bones protest as I sit up.
"What is it?" I ask gently, he hates waking me, asking me for things. He thinks he should care for me, and he has, all our married lives. But now he needs me, and I don't care how my body reacts, I'm going to be there for him.
"Baby I need you to do something for me"
"Anything" I reply, smoothing his thin and lifeless hair gently "Anything Christian"
"The children" he sighs "Be strong for them, they'll need you Ana"
I know he doesn't just mean our two children, that we've brought into the world and nurtured together. He means them all, Ted and Phoebe, and their children, and their grand children, our great grandchildren.
"I will Christian" my mouth says, but my heart screams no! How can I? How can I even go on without you beside me?
"Good girl" he croons and struggles to wrap an arm around me, he tucks it under my once pert body and sighs "If I had more energy..." he says suggestively and I chuckle. We may have slowed down through necessity in recent years, but the passion is still there for us both. The old saying the spirit is willing but the body...
Ana draws herself as high as her protesting back will allow and looks around, her grandson, Christian, or Chris as he prefers, looks at her with concern. Her granddaughter Grace smiles sadly at her, Ted's children.
"You OK gramma?" he asks, he's called her that for 30 years and she looks at him with fondness. If Ted resembled his father strongly, then young Chris is his grandfathers double.
"Yes darling" she gives him a smile, trying not to allow the tear that trickles down her cheek before turning back to the gravestone. She reads the inscription one last time.
Christian Grey
Beloved son, brother, husband,
father, grand father and
great grandfather.
"Fifty Shades of Perfect"
Everyone had asked Ana what the last line meant, but she'd merely smiled and shook her head, it was their secret and theirs alone. Christian had thought he was fifty shades of fucked up, she had called him fifty shades of Grey, but that was her parting shot, because that's what he'd been to her for many many years, fifty shades of perfect.
"Come" she calls to her family "Let's go home"
She sees the devastation on her son's face, the heartbreak on her daughters and she understands Christians request fully. He had always taken care of all of them, and now, unable to, he had asked her to fill in for him. She wouldn't let him down.
…...
…...
Ana rocks the old rocking chair gently with her foot, it hurts but she does it anyway. She looks around the room and sighs, it has been three long years since she held Christian in her arms for the last time. Kissed the top of his head and said their last goodbye.
Laters baby.
But she's had some happiness, despite the aching hole he has left. She has her large and ever growing family and has held more of the latest generation right here in her rocking chair. The rocking chair that Christian gave her when she was pregnant with Ted, and that has stayed in the nursery for all the years. Her memories crowd her mind, the first time she nursed both her babies here, her first grandchildren, and then great grandchildren. Her nieces and nephews, and their babies too. All because she fell into an office, many years ago because her friend was sick. How different life would have been. How empty her life could have been without her beloved fifty.
She hears her family below her in the garden of the big house. It's Teddy's now, he lives here and is every bit as family orientated as his father. He loves being surrounded by them all, and he loves that his mother chose to stay there, with her fathers memories around her. She wouldn't be right anywhere else. She hears them laugh and smiles softly as sleep draws her into it's comfort. They're happy, they have each other.
I close my eyes, just an hour over family dinner and with the children and I am exhausted. At first I don't know why I am so drawn to the nursery and rocking chair, but as soon as I settle, I know why.
This is my place, mine and Christians, and here is where I feel him the most. My mind settles on my favourite memory, when Phoebe is a few weeks old. Christian holds a weary Ted in his arms, he's heavy these days but my fifty doesn't seem to notice, while my brand new baby girl nurses from me contentedly. Her suckling slows and I hear Christian stop singing the lullaby he was crooning to our Teddy. My son's little mouth is slightly open and his copper head thrown back in sleep as he lays in his fathers arms. My baby girl fights sleep for a last few mouthfuls but loses and I lift her onto my shoulder and rub her back, she's fast asleep, both our babies are.
Christians grey eyes meet mine and I see everything I'm feeling reflected back at me, love, contentment, family. And we grin at each other stupidly.
"I think we may have a few hours to ourselves now Mrs Grey" he whispers to me.
"I think we might Mr Grey" I grin back and the familiar swooping sensation in my stomach tingles all the way to...there. Hell, I think, women are supposed to go off sex after babies, and I'm not sure one is supposed to lust after one's husband like this either...but...I don't care.
My rocker now appears to be rocking itself gently as my foot is no longer propelling it, I notice, and then a voice disturbs my daydream and I am a little huffy about it to be honest. 'Cranky old woman' as Christian had called me when I hit 60.
"Hey baby" my huff disappears instantly as I look at him, and he's there, in front of me, looking as amazing as ever.
"I never dream about you" I almost sob. I have begged my brain to let me dream of him but I never do.
"It's no dream" he smiles.
"Why now Christian?" I'm a little angry with him now. I often thought that he'd find a way to reach me, even though I don't believe in ghosts I was sure that he'd come back to me in some way. And sometimes I think I feel him in bed with me, or I can smell his wonderful Christian smell in the hallway...but it always turns out to be an illusion. I've called to him, begging him to appear to me, let me know he's there, but he never has, until today.
"Because it's time Ana" and I scowl at him, can't he even give me a straight answer when he's dead?!
He holds his hand out and I take it, preparing for the struggle that has become standing up for me in recent years, but it's not. I glide from the rocker with youthful ease and grace, and I look down at myself.
"Christian...?" I am stunned by my appearance.
"It's time baby" is all he says and kisses the top of my head softly. We walk to the window and look down on the family we have created and peace fills me again, total peace. They are laughing and playing on the lawns and I turn to smile at Christian, and he smiles back.
"We did good Ana" he breathes, and then I am in his arms and his lips are on mine, I have my fifty again.
Grace Grey-Lewis looks up at the nursery window for a moment and smiles, she sees her father and aunt watching her from above. They must have gone to check on grandma she thinks, frowning as her own son tries to pull himself up on her knees.
She frowns again as her father Ted, and her aunt step around the corner of the big house and looks at the window again.
"Have you been upstairs?" she asks her father suddenly.
"No...is your grandma OK?" he asks, worried immediately.
"She went for a lie down" Grace shrugs "I just thought I saw you both at the nursery window..."
Teddy looks up and his sisters gaze follows, and for a second he thinks he sees his parents, locked in an embrace at the window, but he blinks and it's gone.
"Mom!" he chokes out, and he knows, even before he reaches the nursery, he knows what he'll find.
He kisses the top of Ana's head softly and strokes her silvery hair tenderly, he looks at the window and smiles.
"Thanks dad" he says softly "Thanks for coming to get her, she missed you so much but she was so strong when we needed her. Thank you mom, I love you both"
And the voile curtain at the window gave a little flutter before all was still and Ted kissed his mother again before heading back downstairs to deliver the sad news.
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