This was a prompt from the TUp 100 project on DeviantArt.

Older

They say that with age comes wisdom, to that I'd have to say bullshit. I'm nearly 40 and I'm still making stupid mistakes; letting February play with straighteners near Mega-Girl, leaving Tootsie and Krayonder alone in the control room, giving out stupid orders and putting Rangers in danger.

Putting you in danger.

I realised my mistake as you ran down the ramp of the drop pod, there would be no way to make you turn back and listen to the renewed order, it had already happened.

You raced straight ahead, zapper held high as it always was, never looking left or right. I guess age didn't give you much wisdom either.

If I had looked at the scans, the radar, the holograms. If I had listened to Specs' mindless gibberings a little more attentively. If I had taken more time to consider a plan of action. If I had been out first.

You wouldn't be in that bed.

Wires and tubes cover your body, doctors run in and out of the room like flies. Every inch of you seems broken, even the parts that aren't look defeated. Already given up.

But that's not you; inside you're still fighting, the battle in your mind is never over – still fighting to win. I guess I've always admired that, how you won't give up on anyone. Not yourself, not the crew, not even me. So you can't give in now.

If you did, I wouldn't know what to do.

You're a part of me. I know it sounds cheesy and you hate cheese, in any form, but it's the truth. You somehow complete me, make me feel like myself again. The Jackie to my Chan, the Rolls to my Royce, we fit like a puzzle but are as different as fire and ice.

And I love you for it.

I wish I had gotten a chance to say it before, but I was too afraid. Afraid you wouldn't think the same about me. Afraid you'd leave and never talk to me again. Afraid you'd break my heart. And then where would that have left me? The man with no balls and no heart, may as well have been a robot.

This would have been our last mission together before I was forced to retire, you promised to come with me. Said it wouldn't be as fun without me around.

We had discussed it once, I doubt you would remember, even if you did you would deny it. You said we would live somewhere far away from the G.L.E.E, no one to bother us and no memories to haunt our dreams. A little house in the middle of nowhere, just the two of us.

I had wondered whether you felt the same way I did.

Do.

The room finally calmed, I still held tight to you hand. I felt you squeeze back. Your grip was so weak, so fragile, not like you at all.

It shouldn't be happening to you, not now.

I'm older, I should be the one to go before you. Not the other way around. It isn't fair, I shouldn't have to watch you die. No less than you should have to watch me cry.

I couldn't stop the tears even if I had wanted to, I knew people were watching.

Judging.

But I didn't care, all I wanted was you. For you to know how much I cared, you to know what I was feeling. For you to be okay, and to just get back up, pretending that it never happened, telling me to stop being such a wimp.

But you won't, because you can't.

You can't even hold your own head up at the minute, the pillows under your head do nothing to stop it from lulling to the side every time you take a breath.

The beeping of the monitor is the only sign that you're still alive, still by my side. If I could stop crying I would probably see your chest rising and falling with each staggering gasp of air you took, could watch the light in your eyes fading.

But I'm a coward, so I don't.

"Sir, there's nothing else we can do" the words rang through my ears. It was the truth, I had known from the start that you were as good as gone.

It was good to have more time though.

More time beside you, more time telling myself that you were my everything, more time to work up any ounce of balls that I had left to tell you…

"One minute, please" whoever they were nodded and moved away.

I looked down into your face, your beautiful face, now horribly mashed with cuts and bruises. But you still looked beautiful.

You stared at me, those big brown eyes nearly making me break down once more, but I stayed strong.

As strong as a man could be.

"Guess this is it, amigo?" You shouldn't be talking, you're too weak. But I wouldn't dare say it out loud, you would just get angry.

"I'm so sorry" I gently stroked your ebony coloured hair. Red stains were left on my hand as I pulled away; blood. Your blood.

I looked back down as you coughed, a dribble of red ran down your cheek. The doctor returned, motioning to the machine by your bed, you took a glance at him.

You reach up, tugging at my chin, pulling me down towards you.

Your lips touched mine, soft and gentle on rough and chapped. Electricity ran through my veins as your hand tightened slightly around my neck, pulling me closer.

"I love you" I whispered against your lips.

A light chuckle escaped your mouth, I looked up into your eyes, they seemed to say 'It took you long enough', but you said nothing. I heard the switch to the machine flick as you whispered in my ear, "Te amo tambien" sweeter words had never been spoken.

I willed myself to look back at you, back into your eyes.

You were gone.

Minutes turned to hours, hours to days and days to weeks, to months, to years. Age isn't the only thing that separates us now, but it's bringing us closer at the same time.

Being older may not be a bad thing for long.