Summary: After Fitz kills Eli on Vegas Night, it seems as if fate is giving Clare chances to save him, but will she be able to help him, or lose him forever? Five-shot.
Disclaimer: I do not own Degrassi.
Alright, so I saw a Harry Potter Ronmione story like this, and I thought that the idea was just brilliant, and I've seen many supernatural stories in the Degrassi fandom, so I figured I could try my best. I am not really one hundred percent confident on how I portrayed this type of situation—trying to make it seem like she was ending up in the same place, it playing differently—I mean, you've seen the shows and such where people have a chance to redo something etc. Well, I don't know how well I am going to be able to do that, and how everything will tie in together. I will most certainly try my best, but bear with me, I am not a professional author, able to link things together like Joe Rowling (or floorplanhobo… her pieces are just… brilliant.) But rest assured, I will try. Now, as for a little update, I am like still freaking pissed at my computer, so I am trying to grow up and just rewrite my eighth chapter of Wallflower… eh, it'll happen eventually. I truly am sorry about the wait.
Also, this song is titled, "One Last Chance", by the James Morrison song. (I figured the title kind of fit the meaning of the fanfiction and all so…. Um…. Just read please.)
The entire gym was vibrating violently, colors and elaborate outfits were painted on the bodies of many students, and she could hear the cheers coming from the many students that were winning 'money'. She could see the happy couples smiling at each other while they dance, and as always, she could notice the small pecks of drama about to unfold.
And this was… surprisingly normal. It was a Degrassi dance, after all. This should make her laugh, knowing that some people in her school make a big deal out of everything, and know that her life wasn't nearly as dramatic as all of these others.
But, it was. And maybe not in the same ways as other teens in her school; boyfriends cheating, pregnancies, friendships being destroyed… but, her boyfriend, or not boyfriend, she wasn't even fully sure anymore, not only had a ton of emotional baggage, but was not the most friendly with handling bullies, and this in particular worried her to no end. She was scared for him, and she knew that without her stopping him from the fighting, it would never end; and not only that… but it would also get worse.
Clare Edwards gazed hastily throughout the gym, in search of Fitz or Eli, but they had seemingly both escaped from her view after the stunt Eli pulled with the ipecac. She shook her head disapprovingly, but nevertheless, walked out the entrance of the gym, meeting a shady hallway.
She heard a faint clattering, and glanced to where the sound was coming from, only to be met with Fitz, searching through his locker in a worn position. Clare inched over slowly, placing her hand on his arm.
His head shot to her quickly, his eyes softening immediately. "I'm sorry for what happened in there." She apologized, and he nodded, closing his eyes.
"Seems as if emo boy doesn't want to end this feud after all." He stated hastily, a glint in his eyes that made Clare uncomfortable… but it was Fitz, and she decided to let it go.
She opened her mouth, and then closed it, contemplating. "Why don't you two just… end it? Be the bigger person—you know Eli won't step up to that position." She chuckled, but he didn't look amused.
"You say it like it'll help. Just because we end the feud, the physical fighting, doesn't mean that the emotional standpoint will ever change. He's been scarred, I've done damage." He spoke these words so professionally and matter-of-factly that Clare's jaw was on the ground by the time he had finished. It was his whole persona at the moment; hands linked behind his back, eyes fierce yet understanding, and towering over her.
"Just, don't do anything too crazy, alright?" She smiled, and Fitz chuckled darkly before answering, "Not a chance."
With a breath of reassurance, she headed back into the gym, being met with the loud booming of the music.
At least I have nothing to worry about, she thought, exhaling deeply before sitting down on an empty chair. Even though she had many things going on in her life, she couldn't skip the good things, like how amazing Eli made her feel. When he smiled at her, she melted, like putty in his hands. All of a sudden, remembrance took over her again. She hadn't found Eli.
So caught up in her own thoughts, she hadn't seen Mr. Simpson running briskly to gather up the few school guards DCS had. The music had lowered down drastically, and you could only here the soft hum of the speakers. Clare had sped quickly to the gym exit, only to be blocked by a broad, tall body.
"I'm sorry Ms. Edwards, but we cannot allow anyone to leave the gym, it seems there is… a student with a knife." He explained hesitantly. "He's in the halls, so just to make sure he doesn't get in… we have blocked all entrances."
Clare's mind immediately flashed to Eli, panic flushing over her faster than she could process all of the information. She just wanted Eli safe. "Sir, what if there are students outside with Fitz?" She pitched, and Simpson was surprised that she knew who the knifeman was, but said nothing of it. "I am sorry, Clare, but, as terrible as this sounds, saving the life of that one student would mean risking the lives of the rest of the students at the school." He looked extremely apologetic, and normally Clare would feel sorry for him, but not now, now, she was flabbergasted.
"That is, the most ridiculous thing I have ever hear-" A faint scream ripped through the entire school, cutting her words off, and Clare's heart was wrenched violently out of her chest. The gym was silent, and before Mr. Simpson could stop her, she was out of the door.
Clare felt as if everything was going in slow motion as she ran down the hallway, her hair bouncing and her heart pounding. The click-clack of her shoes mocked her, its slowness driving her crazy as she breathlessly tried to speed up.
And much to her utter horror, she could smell it.
The blood.
Clare gaped silently, before looking in the corner of the hallway, between a locker and the wall, seeing a horrifying sight. A puddle of blood. And Eli.
Fitz was huddled in the other corner, clutching his knife with his hands, but Clare could care less about him, whether he harmed her or not.
Bending down to Eli's side, she clenched his hand tightly, completely clueless on what she was supposed to do to mend him. She had watched a few documentaries, but was not skilled in this.
She screamed and cried, gently pushing the hair out of his face so she could view his mournful eyes. But, they were staring right back at her, and it broke her heart. She was feeling lightheaded, and she finally saw a group of medical caretakers running towards them, followed by the police.
Once the groups reached the 3 teens, Fitz was pulled violently into the polices arms, and shoved out of the door quickly; while the medical caretakers had pushed Clare out of the way of Eli, though she pried and tugged at them, it was no use—they wouldn't let her near him. It didn't stop her from trying though; as they loaded him onto the gurney, she attempted to push her way through, only to be stopped by large hands pulling her back.
Turning around, she saw Mr. Simpson standing there, a thin rim of tears in his eyes and a shell shocked look on his face.
"Clare, I-" he choked up before walking away to talk to one of the paramedics.
She couldn't hear, she couldn't speak, and she couldn't see anything but black. Blindly leaning up against a locker, she breathed deeply to calm herself down.
The paramedics are here, she thought, they wouldn't let anything happen to him. They will save him, and in no time, he'll be good as new. These thoughts had continued for a while, and they were working to keep her optimistic.
She was in a traumatic shock. Though she was morbidly glad she didn't watch it happen, as bad as it sounded, she didn't think it would affect her this much. They were friends, and she definitely had strong feelings for him—but, he wasn't the love of her life; she knew that. So why was she so heartbroken about this? If Clare were in her right mind, she would have surely told herself, it's because he just got stabbed you idiot. You would feel this way even if it happened to Alli.
She remembered when Darcy had told her about JT—and how she had come home crying that day. Just the thought of a person dying so tragically gave Clare chills, and she had soon found herself crying with empathy. Though she was young at the time, she had a very mature way of thinking of things. And as she absentmindedly thought back to those times, she realized that she was affected by a stranger's death—and she finally understood why this affected her so terribly.
Clare just barely felt a hand grip hers, and though she wished it was Eli's, it was softer and smaller, and she knew exactly whose hand it was. "Clare—it's just me. They're driving him to the hospital right now."
The words sounded extremely faint, and before she knew it, she saw no more.
All she saw was white. Not the white that you think of when you ponder about the holidays; a Winter Wonderland. Not white like heaven, an afterlife. The white that makes you uneasy, giving you a head ache; this white scares you to no end, because you may just be receiving the absolute worst news of your life in these very uncomfortable chairs, facing these white walls.
She had woken up groggily, her memory immediately catching up with her, Clare's stomach dropping to her feet once more. The hand was still in hers, and through blurry vision, she saw Adam's figure sitting in the chair next to her, his head leaning loosely on her shoulder.
Immediately, she spoke, "What room—where is he?" She questioned in a panicked tone, and her heart immediately stopped when Adam said nothing, just giving her a sorrowful look, then continuing to cry. With her negativity at an all-time high, she rushed to the front counter of whatever floor they were on—she still had absolutely no idea how she got there in the first place, and quickly asked the receptionist what room Eli Goldsworthy was in.
The woman gave her a look heavy of pity, not responding, but she picked up the phone before typing in a number.
"Hello, Dr. Christopherson? We have a girl here to see um… Elijah Goldsworthy." She spoke the last words heavily and uncertainly, like they knew something that she didn't. Clare could hear the faint mumbling of the voice on the other line, and then the receptionist hung up the phone.
The woman looked up at her from the chair. "I um- the doctor will see you in a moment to give you the-" She paused, looking pensive, "full analysis." With one final look of sympathy, she continued to type at her computer.
Clare shook her head, "No, no." She cried to the woman. "I want to know what is going on right… now." At this point, she was feeling so overwhelmed she wondered if it was possible to have a panic attack at this moment.
Just as the doctor was approaching, the receptionist walked out from behind the desk, accompanying him at his side.
Dr. Chris spoke, "It seems that Mr. Goldsworthy lost too much blood while in the school…" he trailed off, but Clare got the point immediately.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but—Eli Goldsworthy is dead."
Eli Goldsworthy is dead.
Eli Goldsworthy is dead.
Eli Goldsworthy is dead.
Eli Goldsworthy is dead.
The words echoed in Clare's head, though she refused to believe them. Eli wasn't dead. He was most certainly alive.
His heart was beating, his cheeks were rosy, and Clare would walk out of the hospital to be accompanied by Eli and Morty. He would then make a snarky remark about how she had nothing to worry about—he was perfectly intact.
Shaking her head in disbelief, she walked away, muttering, "No, no, no" every few seconds. She could hear the footsteps following her, but she paid no attention to them.
She exited the hospital doors, greeted by the blackness of dusk, and a full moon was erect in the sky. There was a slight drizzle of rain—whether it was raining all night or not, she didn't know.
The footsteps she heard were soon right next to her, and she clung to the person immediately, the two people hugging each other tightly. It was silent, except for the pouring of the rain that got seemingly louder as it became heavier, but the two didn't mind.
Because Eli Goldsworthy, their best friend, was dead. And as far as they knew, there was nothing they could do about it.
Alrighty! So, there you have it. As far as I know, I have planned this story to be a 'five-shot' (sad excuse) it may be a bit more or less, if so, I will change that part in the summary so you know.
I really want to hear your feedback—and I hate writing Clare all cry-y, but Eli just died—it needed to be done. Honestly, I hate having depressing fanfictions, but I have a feeling that this one will have a happy ending ;) Anyway, PLEASE REVIEW—I want to know if I should continue or not.
And by the way, I just wanted to mention how beast Munrustin is. Bromance ftw.