AN: This if for all of the people affected by the Paris attack. No matter who you are. Well...unless you were one of the terrorists who killed people. Then, you are a bad person! Don't do that! It's not nice!
Disclaimer: Pokemon is not mine, nor is the situation this is based on. No canon characters are mine.
Warning: If you have PTS, or have been through similar things, this might be slightly triggering, I dunno. It's your call.
Monday, November 16th, 2015:
Dawn took a deep breath. And cried harder.
No, no, no, no, no.
Paul couldn't be dead.
Where was the twinkle in his eyes? The strong, rough, yet gentle hands that held her? They weren't gone. No, this was all a nightmare. This was all a nightmare she needed to wake up from. He was okay, he was at home, and he was alive. He did not have a bullet through the head. He did not. He was at home, on their bed, sleeping. Yes, he was. He wasn't dead.
But then Dawn lifted her head and saw the bloody scene all over again. Her sobs' volume rose to hysterical.
There was Paul, purple hair matted with blood, eyes closed peacefully, as if asleep. Arms crumpled beneath him as if hugging himself. Red staining the pristine, white cloth of the wrapping.
He looked gentle, all the hard, stiff lines on his face fading away into youth and gentleness. Dawn reached out and painted a swirl with her finger and his blood. He was really gone. The dried blood and slimy bullet next to him were only proof.
She tried to shake the memory off. She tried to get a grip on reality, and clutched the rough fabric of the quilt harder.
"Get me morphine! Now!" Marina's voice was full of authority, but underneath all that, was a young girl watching her friends fall apart all around her.
Suddenly, a warm, large hand slipped into her grasp.
"Paul?" Dawn whimpered, eyes shut tightly, and tears running down her pink, pained face.
"No. Not Paul," Drew's voice was in just as much pain as Dawn felt. He had lost someone too.
"It's fine. I'm okay. No more morphine," Dawn whispered, opening one eye sluggishly, staring into Marina's worried face.
Drew stood next to her, holding strong for her and Serena. They both needed someone to understand.
He didn't see it all. See what it was like, but he understood the pain.
Serena was sitting on her own hospital bed, bawling, curled into a ball, crying, and crying.
Leaf was next to her, holding her, crying just as hard into her hair, but whispering loving, gentle words. She was Serena's best friend. And whether Serena wanted her best friend at that moment, Leaf would be there for her.
But Dawn's best friend was gone. She had been snatched from her. Just like Paul. She had seen May's eyes dissipate, and just go...poof. She had been splattered with her best friend's blood. She had seen the blackened body.
At least Dawn hadn't seen Paul fall right in front of her. Serena had to.
"You sure? I just…" Marina looked frail, and so tired, as if she couldn't live like that anymore.
Marina, Leaf, Zoey, and Misty had been there for them, every step of the way. Cynthia had visited, and attended the funerals. All of the people that were friends, and knew them, and all gathered in Lumiose. High and low, people crawled out of their holes to send their condolences, say goodbye, and remember the fallen. No one joked about it. It wasn't funny. The City of Light. It really wasn't.
There had been more tears cried in the past few weeks, than many had cried in years.
Families: ripped apart.
Loved ones: gone.
Friends: dead.
Children: orphaned.
Neighbors: never coming back.
Lives: ruined.
Worlds: crumbled.
Spirits: torn.
All over the world, Sinnoh, Hoenn, Johto, Kanto, Unova, all stood with Kalos, all mourned.
One hundred and thirty dead. Ninety one critically wounded. Over two hundred also wounded.
Lumiose City, Kalos.
She had been there. She had seen the people fall. She had seen the masked men, the guns, and bombs. She had heard the explosions that rendered her deaf. She had smelled the pungent smell of chemicals burning. She had felt the gritty air as the smoky haze rushed by her.
She had been there.
Friday, November 13th, 2015:
No.
She had to find Paul, Calem, and May! All she had done was visit the bathroom! Down the hallway and to the right! That was it!
But that was all it took for the gunshots and explosions to start.
BOOM.
The explosion blew up the plaster wall on the other side of the restaurant. Body parts and blood splattered everywhere.
Dawn stared down in horror at the torn arm and bone. It was bloody, and gory. The grisly muscle were ripped apart.
Then she saw the glassy blue eyes and the mutilated body.
"Oh my Arceus," Dawn's whispered words echoed around her, the smoky air choking her.
People were screaming and crying, running and panicking. Loud fire alarms were blaring, if the suffocating heat, and the smoky wisps were no indication.
A young girl scrambled towards the ruined person Dawn had stumbled upon.
"Papa!?" The little girl sobbed out, cradling her deceased father's blood speckled face. "Papa! What do I do Papa?"
Dawn reached out towards her, gently prying her desperate fingers from the body.
"There." Dawn pointed at the steady stream of fleeing people, the wide open door and the firefighters. "Can you go there for me? Tell them that you're with Dawn Berlitz, okay?"
The traumatized little girl nodded, crying and whimpering. She wobbled onto her tiny feet, and scrambled towards the firefighters and Squirtles.
Through the haze of the smoke, a man stepped onto the ruined table near the crumbled wall. His eyes were crazed and bloodthirsty, blood lust clouding his judgement.
He threw something in the general direction of the fleeing. Dawn threw her purse to intercept it, without even thinking, knowing it was another bomb.
She was correct and the searing heat from the blast threw her backwards.
Dawn felt her frail body go flying into a wall as the loud noise burst her eardrums. "Dawn!" Someone screamed, searching frantically for her.
Brown hair looked like a dull, burning flame in the orange light of the burning restaurant.
"May!" Dawn's voice was hoarse and tired as she wanted to cry out.
The heat was nearing unbearable, and the air was really suffocating. Rubble and ash drifted around the air, rough and uncomfortable along Dawn's skin. Her clothes felt too heavy, too weighed down. The burning smell was overwhelming. Her entire body was inflamed, the crippling pain aching in her very bones.
Two more explosions went off, and Dawn could feel the energy from the blasts on her face as she laid amongst the cracked wall and destroyed counter.
May's brilliant blue eyes were calm and soothing as she tried to reach Dawn through the slowly lessening flow of people.
"Dawn! You're goi-" May never got to finish the sentence. Those would be her last words.
The explosion cut through her body like putty, throwing three different parts of May in all directions. The nearby strangers were ripped apart as well, coating the floor in another layer of burned bodies and blood.
"May!" Dawn's horrified voice cracked loudly, as she somehow mustered the strength to pull herself up and scream at the top of her lungs.
She stumbled out of the wreckage, and started mumbling incoherently. "I've gotta find Paul. I've gotta find Calem. May's dead. Find Paul. Find Paul." She shoved everything that her brain was shouting at her to the back of her head, focusing on one fact and shoving everything else to the side.
A flash of black hair darted around Dawn's peripheral vision. The heat was more intense now, her clothes even started smoldering.
"Calem!" Dawn called out, and somehow, her smoke-muddled brain remembered one fact. "Calem! Serena's out there waiting for you! Get her to safety! I'll…" Dawn tripped and stumbled, but held her balance. "I'll find Paul!"
Calem's grateful, gray eyes were the last thing Dawn saw of the Kalos champion as he pushed through the crowd towards the pre-agreed meeting place of his girlfriend and him.
Dawn started towards the intense heat, looking, crying, and begging people to tell her where Paul was.
"I saw him run outside, chasing one of the terrorists!" A terrified voice called out. It was a teenager, no older than fifteen, him clutching his girlfriend's hand as the young couple joined the fleeing people. His other hand was pointing firmly towards the side door, which was wide open, the cool night air rushing into the building.
The reason people weren't leaving through there? A fallen pillar of wood, alight and crackling with licks of fire.
Screams and yells of pain were still in the background, gunshots and explosions right out of a movie. A glass pane shattered loudly.
Dawn inhaled sharply, the ashy mixture of air burning her lungs. Then she darted forward, leaping perilously close to the log, but safely skidded onto the other side.
She allowed herself three deep breaths of fresh air before she took off running.
In the alleyway was masses of people, a few crumpled on the floor, lot's more wandering around and trying to figure out what was wrong.
Mutters and whispers spread as they saw Dawn's bedraggled state.
Then she saw him.
Paul.
A broken cry escaped her, and her chest was suddenly in sharp pain. "Move!" She roared, pushing towards him.
Paul. Her Paul. Oh Arceus.
His left arm was twisted in a strange angle, his face peaceful and normal. But it was the hole on the side of his head, still leaking bubbly blood, that made Dawn gasp, then promptly throw up.
When she was done, she crawled on her hands and knees towards him, the crowd widening the circle around her as she choked on her own sobs.
"No." Dawn whispered, tears pricking her eyes. Paul couldn't be dead. Out of all of the hundreds of people, Paul couldn't be dead. He wasn't. He was still alive, and at home. He was safe and well. This was all a nightmare. Yes, Paul was still at home.
"Paul." Her voice was pained. "No. Paul. No." Dawn wailed out, tears blurring the blood and purple hair together.
She lowered her trembling lips onto Paul's lukewarm ones. She stayed like that until his body went cold, and still sobbed while the crowd muttered around her. She would practically feel his warmth leave him, his spirit and everything about him leave. "No…" Dawn whispered, even though she knew in the bottom of her heart, that he was gone.
She got on her knees, hands raised with unreleased anger, lapis lazuli eyes blazing with frustration.
"Go! Get out of here! There's terrorists and bombers! Tons of people are already dead! Get out of here!" Dawn shouted at the onlookers angrily, shooing them towards the center of the city, out of the alleyways and towards the main streets. "Go!" She screamed one more time, pushing a little boy after his father.
The crowd started surging forwards, panicked voices carrying Dawn's message.
"Terrorists...really?"
"Dead...shot...bodies to the west...fire...football stadium shooting."
"Run!...run...run...get out of here...it's not safe...get home...now…"
Dawn crouched down next to Paul's limp body and gathered him up into her arms. He was so heavy, but Dawn somehow found the strength to lug him towards the flashing lights.
Sunday, November 22nd, 2015:
"Paul is dead, Paul is dead. May is dead, May is dead. I'm alive, I'm alive. I survived, I survived. I saw my best friend die in front of me, I saw my best friend die in front of me. I wish I was dead with them. I wish I was dead with them." Dawn chanted, blue eyes wide with tiredness, hands clutching her knees furiously, and hair frizzy and everywhere.
"Dawn," Marina's voice was tired, so tired. "Eat something."
"It hurts Mar...it hurts so bad. Why does it feel so empty? Why does it feel like there's no heart pumping in me anymore? Why does my chest ache so badly? Why can't I forget? Am I a bad person?" Dawn whispered, rocking back and forth.
Misty swung open the door, and walked towards Dawn, reaching out for her. "No, you're not a bad person. You're supposed to remember. It's called post traumatic stress." Misty answered calmly, though her voice trembled as she stared at what her friend had been reduced into.
"But it doesn't even matter that I remember. The only thing I want to forget is that Paul, Calem and May are gone. They're dead. Gone. Dead. Never coming back. No, no, no. They shouldn't be. I should be. I should have done something. I could've. I should've. NO! They can't be dead. No...they can't," Dawn cried, muttering deliriously.
It hurt so bad. The physical pain she felt. The deep ache in her bones. The sharp jab that was her heart pounding in her chest. Every step shot needles up her legs. Every breath was labored, hard to bring in. Every blink made it harder to lift her eyelids again.
It. Hurt. So. Bad.
It hurt that she knew she could have done something! She could have told them to run! She could have waited to go to the bathroom. She could have decided to not even meet in Lumiose! It was so painful! Knowing that they died, they were gone, and they were leaving her alone. So alone.
"Dawn!" Marina was shaking her again, Misty's arms wrapped around Dawn's shoulders.
"It's not your fault! You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. There's nothing that we can change. We're so glad you lived Dawn. We need you as much as you need us." Misty's soothing voice whispered right next to her ear.
"Why couldn't I have died with them?" Dawn asked in a small voice, almost petulant.
"Because Arceus knew that we needed one of you four to live."
"We need you Dawn."
Dawn breathed in sharply. "No you don't...it would hurt less for me…"
Their hurt expressions struck a chord deep inside Dawn's heart.
"Dawn, stop acting like this. I knew Paul. He wouldn't like you acting like this," A deeper, more male voice interrupted their moment.
Ash.
"What do you know?" Dawn snapped. "Yes, he was your rival, but he was my significant other! We loved each other! He was my other half! You try living with only half of yourself! It's fucking hard!"
"I know, Dawn. Trust me, I know."
The seriousness in Ash's voice got to Dawn. She softened a bit, curious, momentarily forgetting her own pain.
"What?" she asked.
"I lost May, my old traveling companion. I lost Paul, my rival. I lost Calem, an old friend. I'm losing Serena, you, and Drew too. I lost my mom a few years ago. And Professor Oak. The Professor's Gary now," Ash sounded so sad, as if someone was really plucking everyone out of his life.
"You still have Misty," Dawn's voice was soft, almost jealous.
"Yes, I still have Misty," Ash agreed, pushing off the door frame to stand next to the said girl. "And I'm so glad for that. But I know loss Dawn. Stop being a stubborn girl and let us in. We get it, not just Drew and Serena."
Dawn sighed deeply. "Don't you think I want this monster to go away? This grief-stricken nothingness inside me? I want to let you guys in. I want to stop hurting so much, so often. It's hard."
"Yeah...we know," Misty's sarcastic voice broke the moody atmosphere, a little bit of normal in this abnormal world.
"I'll try."
Three pairs of eyes turned to stare at Dawn in shock. "I'll try to rein in the stubbornness. Let you guys in...and try to let you guys heal me? Give it a shot?"
Four hands clasped together. "Deal."
Sunday, December 13th, 2015:
Dawn curled into Misty, her sobs loud and prominent.
They had forced her to go. Forced her to say goodbye. But she couldn't. It was too hard.
"It's okay."
The two words that had been said the most to Dawn these past few days.
Misty's cerulean eyes were so, so, sad.
Paul, Calem, and May. All gone. All gone.
Whispers swirled around her, the words and phrases like, crazy, insane, acting, didn't love, don't know why I'm here, didn't know him, awkward, creepy, deserved it, idiot, save yourself, intimidating, weird, scary, surrounded her.
Liars. Wasn't she allowed to grieve? Didn't they have some respect for him? He had saved lives! He killed two terrorists before another shot him! He had been a hero! That's why so many people were here! But it didn't matter. No one had respect for him.
Dawn sobbed louder, needing to match the deep, aching pain in her chest with her cries. "It's not okay! It will never be okay! I lost my best friend! And...and Paul." Dawn's voice broke off, and suddenly it was too hard to breath.
The Pastor stopped short, staring in shock at the young woman who interrupted his probably magnificent speech. Dawn wasn't listening. And she didn't give a fuck.
"Fuck you all! You all think that I'm not allowed to be broken anymore! It's only been a month you assholes! This is Paul's funeral, and all of you are acting uncomfortable! It's as if all of you didn't know him, or don't care enough about him to respect him!" Dawn's upset voice broke through the murmurings, and everyone stared at her. She threw off her heels, something Dawn had never done before, and rushed towards the podium.
She shoved the Pastor off, hard, and he tumbled down the stairs, she not even bothering to slow down his fall.
Dawn yanked at the microphone, feedback sizzling feebly in the background.
Dawn saw Drew's green hair as he stood up abruptly, and started pushing through the crowd towards her.
"YOU SAY YOU CARE? SO WHY ARE YOU HERE? BECAUSE YOU CAN SAY YOU WENT TO A HERO'S FUNERAL? WE DON'T WANT SOMEONE WHO WILL NOT LET THE ONES WHO LOVED HIM GRIEVE! 'WE'RE SUPPOSED TO BE OVER IT BY NOW. THIS WASN'T THE WORST TERRORIST ATTACK EVER? WHY SHOULD WE RESPECT HIM, RIGHT?' WELL LET ME TELL YOU! HE MAY HAVE BEEN INTIMIDATING AND QUIET, BUT HE WAS ONE OF THE KINDEST, MOST CARING PEOPLE I HAD EVER MET! AND YOU SHOULD ALL SHUT THE FUCK UP AND RESPECT HIM!" Drew finally grabbed Dawn, wrenching the microphone away and holding her shaking body close, muffling her screams of dissent.
"Let me go!" Dawn's furious voice was still loud and projected over the silent crowd of hundreds.
"They're officials here, policemen, citizens, and politicians here! Well I want them to know, that it doesn't look good on your résumé! It won't help you in life! If you didn't know him, and don't respect him, and is only here for yourself, GET THE FUCK OUT!"
Someone in the crowd called out. "Who gives you the right to kick us out?"
That only fueled Dawn's anger more. "I WAS HIS SIGNIFICANT OTHER! I LOVED HIM! HE HAS NO FAMILY LEFT! HIS ENTIRE FAMILY DIED YEARS AGO! I BROUGHT HIM OUT OF DEPRESSION! I AM NEXT TO HIM FOR MY ENTIRE LIFE! HE IS MY EVERYTHING! I HAVE EVERY FUCKING RIGHT TO KICK YOU OUT! WHOEVER SAID THAT, GET OUT!"
Dawn started hiccuping and bawling harder when she realized that she had used the present tense. As if Paul was still here. Still loving her and caring for her. But he wasn't.
Drew was still trying to hold her back, the countless sleepless nights, the nightmares, the flashbacks and memories finally getting to Dawn.
Misty and Marina were there then, begging her to listen. Leaf held Serena as she sobbed loudly.
"Make it go away. Please," Dawn went quiet all of a sudden, her pain washing over her again. "Make it stop! Why can't I get his dead eyes out of my head? The bubbling spring of blood! The explosions! May's...oh Arceus… May's...body...her blood!" Drew tensed noticeably and Dawn started crying even harder, if that was even possible.
Dawn was screaming hysterically again, people who had felt guilty after her speech, drifted out the door, staring in horror at the broken girl.
Because that was what Dawn was, right? Just a broken little girl, who'd get over it eventually. But they didn't understand.
Paul. Was. Gone. He was gone, and there was nothing anyone could say, anything anyone could do, to make it better. It wasn't changing. Arceus wasn't going to bring back Paul. He was gone, and maybe Dawn just had to learn to accept that. But it was so. Damn. Hard!
The Pastor had stumbled back onto the podium and finished his speech to the few people left, most scared away by Dawn.
Dawn just cried and cried, touching Paul's face gently when it was time to throw in the dirt. She poured out all her pain, tore down that dam of feelings she had balled up inside her, and just let it roll, not caring who broke when it touched them. Tuning out the monotone voice of the Pastor, forcing the images and the constant reminders that May and Paul were gone. They were. They were DEAD.
Dawn hadn't been able to throw her handful of dirt. She had dropped hers and tried to scramble into the hole, next to the coffin. She had wanted to be buried next to her love. Her best friend and her significant other were both dead. Her life didn't matter anymore.
They hauled her out, and watched her.
She then touched his face, remembered that night, the sirens, and the rapid French, and left the funeral, empty and confused.
Friday, December 18th, 2015:
Dawn cried next his grave, running her fingers over and over the engraved words. She hadn't came here in a long time. Why should she have? They just wanted her to get over it, right?
No one really cared too much anymore.
And after work that day, Dawn finally decided to visit her deceased boyfriend.
Her friends stood behind her, not saying anything. Dawn was supposed to get her closure, right?
When Dawn ran her fingers along Paul's full name, she flashed back to that night again. The panic, the fear, the pain, the worry, and the tension all rushing back.
As the images, sounds, smells, and feelings assaulted her, Dawn saw one thing she hadn't before.
The glimmer of safety, and joy in May's eyes before she died. She had known that she was going to die. But Dawn would survive. So it would all be okay. It was okay for May.
And Paul would want her to move on, right? He might've been a selfish bastard, but he had loved Dawn more than anything, right? He would...want Dawn to love him, yes, but also go back to life. The way she was living, pushing the insane monster part of herself inside everyday, a mindless robot going through the motions, that wasn't how Paul lived. He might've been stoic, and unattached, but he had loved his job, his friends, and Dawn. It would be okay, wouldn't?
Dawn ran her fingers over the letters one more time, then scooted over to the one next to it. Her very best friend in the entire world.
"Oh May. You were so happy to give your life up, as long as mine was safe. You should have lived. Then I could be with Paul, and you could be with Drew. He's broken, you know? But it didn't turn out that way. That's alright. I'm getting used to it now. Living without you guys. It doesn't hurt so much anymore. I still love you both. But I'm letting go. Is that alright?"
Dawn knew that she was just talking to stone, but if felt right, so she did it. Tears pricked her eyes once again. How many tears had she cried? How many times have she broken down? Dawn didn't know anymore. Just that she had to let go. It was right.
She ran her index finger over May's grave, and kissed it lightly, blowing on it.
She did the same to Paul's, pretending she wiping dust off the pristine granite, then blowing it into the wind. The dust was Paul and May. And Dawn was letting the wind take it's course, letting them do what they must. Letting them leave.
Dawn breathed in again. She would be okay.
AN: I know this is late and it's already the third official day of mourning for the City of Light, but I just had to write something. I'm writing three stories, and I'm calling them Grief Collection. I'm posting one tomorrow, and the day after that.
I hope to send my condolences to the people of Paris, and France. I'm sincerely sorry about all the grief and pain you have to go through. Anyone going through PTS, sorry, and find someone you feel comfortable talking to. It makes it so much easier. :(
Je suis désolé pour votre perte.
I'm learning French, so sorry if the grammar isn't exactly correct, but I am really sorry about your loss. It took me an hour to get over the fact that there had just been a terrorist attack on Paris. So, sorry for everything you have to go through.
Thank you for reading. Please hit that review button and tell me on what I can fix. I'm a work in progress. ;)