A/N: I saw a fanvid a while back using this song ("My Immortal" by Evenescence) as a metaphore for Scotty & Elisa's relationship, and that inspired this. So thanks to the creator of that video (wherever you are!), and to oucellogal for beta-ing, helping me with backstory stuff, and generally being supportive :D
I'm posting this as a one-shot for now, but have plans to expand it into a multi-chapter story, so don't be surprised if you see an update in a couple of months. Do, however, surprise me by using that little review button at the bottom to let me know what you think :P
Pulling into the parking lot, Scotty frowned at the bar before him. Lounge, he corrected himself mentally. Gina was very specific about that when she suggested this place. He had almost cancelled, especially after he and Anna had interrogated that nut over at West that pushed a girl off the bridge. Like an idiot he'd gone afterward and fished out the note Elisa had left him, and ended up practically blubbering in front of Lt. Stillman. But a day later he calmed down some, thought he'd let go when he sent that note into the river, figured he should probably get on with his life—whether he liked it or not.
Finding an empty space, he parked the car and slowly made his way toward the front door, an uneasy feeling germinating in the pit of his stomach when he noticed the red canopy with white script lettering over the entrance.
Great. It's that kind of place.
The uneasy feeling grew when he entered the building and saw the tablecloths and candles on each of the small, round tables scattered around the room. There was a stage to the right on which a woman in a black cocktail dress was singing a soft ballad, accompanied by what was probably a house band. Scotty's eyes rolled involuntarily as he wondered what he'd gotten himself into.
But at least it's not country music.
He stopped at the bar and ordered himself a drink, the sound of applause mixing with the clinking of ice cubes in glasses around him as the song ended. He heard shuffling noises, too, and turned to see the vocalist sliding herself onto a piano bench, flexing her fingers as she adjusted the microphone.
Scotty's drink arrived and he took a sip, glancing at his watch and deciding it might be better to wait for his date at one of the tables. He picked his way through the audience, spotting an unoccupied table in the middle of the room as the muted tones of the piano drifted from the stage and blended with the singer's gentle voice.
"I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone"
A vision of Elisa floated through Scotty's mind, but not of the happy Elisa he'd know since they were children. No, this vision was of the sick Elisa, the love and stability he used to see in her dark eyes replaced by confusion and fear when yet another medication had lost its effectiveness. This was the Elisa he saw when he visited her in the hospital, desperate for relief from her demons that he could not provide. This was the Elisa that had, however unintentionally, broken his heart.
"These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase"
The volume of the singer's voice increased subtly, carrying Scotty's emotions with it as he listened more closely to the lyrics than he had intended to. A tightness was developing in his chest, and he made a conscious effort at a few deep breaths to try and relieve it. He noticed the clamminess of his palms as he raised his glass and took a drink, hoping to disguise the transition from unease to anxiety that was happening on his face, wondering how a simple song could have this kind of effect on him.
But he knew it wasn't the song.
It was Elisa.
"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years"
Memories surfaced that he thought he had managed to bury: Elisa lying in their bed beside him crying, frantic to figure out what was happening to her; Elisa screaming in the middle of the night in terror, cowering in a corner of the apartment when "the giants" were coming for her. He'd been there for her through everything, even after they called off the engagement, checking in on her, having the doctors keeping him apprised of her condition, visiting when it tore him up to see her like that. He'd refused to abandon her. Because that's what you do for the woman you love.
"But you still have all of me"
And she does. The music mercifully softened and he felt his pounding heart—when did that start?—beginning to resume a rhythm closer to normal. He suspected it was only a temporary reprieve, though, and bitterly awaited the ways in which his body and mind would betray him next.
"You used to captivate me by your resonating light
Now I'm bound by the life you left behind
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me"
Goosebumps formed on his arms and legs underneath his suit, even on his scalp as the words floated down from the stage. He swore he could hear pain in the singer's voice, a deep sadness like he'd never heard before in another human being, unsure if perhaps it was really hers or his own grief he was hearing. Because God knows I never hurt more in my whole life, and no one else should ever have to feel like that. No one else should have to wake up in a cold sweat every night after havin' a nightmare about their dead fiancée. No one else was responsible for Elisa jumpin' off that bridge…just me.
"These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase
When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years"
The intensity of the piano crescendoed in conjunction with the singer's voice, drowning out all extraneous noises and filling the lounge with musical anguish. Scotty tried to take another sip of his drink, but found instead that his hand was shaking so badly he couldn't hold the glass to his lips. He dropped the drink on the table with a dull thud and shifted his eyes to a random spot on the tablecloth, to his trembling fingers, to anywhere he could concentrate on calming himself down before he fell apart in front of all these people.
"But you still have all of me"
His brown eyes found the base of a discarded microphone stand off to the side of the stage and remained there as he prayed for composure, for the strength to stand up from his chair and walk out of the lounge.
For forgiveness from Elisa.
"I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me, I've been alone all along"
The crashing of drums and wail of an electric guitar sent a lightning bolt through his body, jolting him from his last shred of self-control. Tears sprang to his eyes as the music thundered around him, and Scotty knew that it was no longer a question of if he was going to break down, but simply when and where. Please God, not here…
"When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have…"
His date long since forgotten, he forced himself to his feet, the strength of the singer's voice carrying him swiftly through the lounge and out the front door. Tears were blurring his vision as he hustled across the parking lot, his entire frame quaking as he fumbled with his keys. It took several agonizing tries to get the door unlocked, tears spilling from his eyes and dripping down his cheeks. Never had he reacted this way to a song before, but never had a song hit so close to home.
"…all of me"
Crawling behind the wheel, he buried his head in his hands and let go. The tears came fast and hot, running down his face as he cried, no longer caring who saw or what the hell was wrong with him. He only wanted one thing.
Elisa. Well. No demons, no "giants".
Just his girl.
But it's my fault she isn't here.
———
Alone beside the service entrance in the back of the lounge, another tortured soul poured out her own anger and sorrow in wave after wave of sobs, mourning the loss of a loved one, drowning in the guilt of not being able to have stopped it.
The singer sat, knees drawn to her chest, face buried in her arms as she cried after her set, begging God to take it all back, to take her life instead.
But He didn't.
Because it's my fault.
