Author's Note: I was writing a paper on the Tea Act, debating on if I even want to write or not, and this hit me. So I wrote it. What can I say, family deaths and depression are my areas of expertise.
"Finis" is the Latin word for "end", often used at the end of literary works to signify it's end.
SOUNDTRACK: "Lag Fyrir Ommu" Olafur Arnalds. Pure instrumental bliss.
"The fear of death follows fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at anytime." -Mark Twain.
"The timing of death, like the ending of a story, gives a changed meaning to what preceded it." Mary Catherine Bates.
"Even the devil may cry when he looks around Hell and realizes he's all alone." -Acheron Parthenopaeus, "Devil May Cry".
It'd finally come, the day they all feared. The day their bionic superhero children wouldn't come home. The day had begun with an explosion at a nuclear power plant, with an even more devastating one to come that would rival that of Chernobyl. Despite that, it was supposed to be an easy in and out rescue and evacuate mission. Unfortunately, the radiation had become a bigger problem than expected. It weakened their bionics greatly, to the point where after the first five minutes some of them were unusable. Mr. Davenport had yelled for them to leave, to live and fight another day. They'd simply turned off their earpieces and kept doing what they'd been raised and trained to do: protect and save people at all costs, even if it was their own lives.
There were exactly four-hundred and fifty-nine workers down there, risking their lives to stop the explosion, at the very least shorten its blast radius and weaken its power. None of them had been ordered or asked to do this, all of them had people they loved and families, but still they stayed. How could the bionic superhumans not do the same? All of the workers had been rescued, but on their final check, the children had finally succumbed to radiation poisoning and had collapsed on the floor, unable to do much more than lie in wait for death. Death, that after all their run-ins and near misses, would finally get to claim them.
"I never imagined dying, at least not like this." Bree choked out, struggling to breathe but determined nonetheless to speak. A stubborn determination that had gotten her into trouble many times before, but what trouble could plague her now? She was as good as dead. "I imagined that I'd die of old age, after a good, long life. A life with a family, with a husband to love and children to raise. Not here, not like this."
"I just didn't want to die, period," Adam stated, recalling to mind all the simplest yet pleasurable sensations he'd never feel again. The sun warming his skin and brightening up the sky, grass brushing against and cushioning his feet, a soft breeze kissing his skin. "but if I did have to die, I didn't want my siblings were going down with me. I wanted them happy and living their lives." He gave into a coughing fit, the heat and smoke in the air impeding his ability to breathe clearly.
"Everything dies, I knew that." Chase said, taking his chance to give his siblings his final words. Words that would never be recorded or remembered. "I just wanted to be the last one to go, hopefully after a good life. I didn't want to cause anyone the pain of grief, much less the people I loved most." Chase loathed causing other people pain, given all his experiences of being bullied, and because even if you forgot their face, or the words they'd said or the action they'd done to you, you always remembered the way they made you feel, that was seared into your soul and stuck with you forever. "But I guess none of us are getting what we wanted."
They were already feeling guilt over the grief they'd cause their families. While their pain was temporary and would disappear when they died, their family would have to suffer it until their own deaths came. "I'm scared. I don't know what's on the other side. I don't know if I'm gonna be alone!" Tears were streaming down Bree's face, and she reached out with her hands toward her brothers with what little remained of her strength. Both her brothers took a hand, and soon all three were connected. They'd all hated being alone, and couldn't stand to see one of them in pain, feelings born from being bonded so closely their whole lives.
"Don't be, Bree, we'll be with you like we always have." Together in life, together in death. Their one solace as the air heated up even more to an almost intolerable degree, signaling the reactor would soon blow. "Wherever you end up, we'll end up right beside you." Whatever death gave them, be it suffering or joy, they'd share it as they shared everything else.
"There's nothing to be afraid of. We've lived good lives, even if they weren't the longest, or the lives we wanted. Before we go, I just wanted you to know, I'm proud of us. How far we've come, everything we've done, I wouldn't take back a single second of it, not for anything. I don't regret being your brother or a part of this team, and I hope neither of you do, either." Chase squeezed his siblings' hands after his little speech, and they returned it. It was the last thing they did before the reactor exploded and they left the world they way they'd lived in it: together.
It wasn't fair, was Donald's thought as he stood looking at the three headstones. There was nothing under the headstones, everything had been vaporized by the explosion. His children deserved better than this, headstones numerous amounts of people would walk by and not know that the people whose names lay engraved in the stone had been heroes. Tears flowed from his red eyes, but he didn't bother to wipe them. He, Tasha, Douglas, and Leo were the only people who would ever cry over these children, children who had saved hundreds and had died long before their time.
His world had been shattered and utterly destroyed, him being forced to go on and live life while missing the most vital part of it. Yet who would care? Years from now, despite all the lives they saved, who would remember the bionic heroes? In the midst of the worst of his sorrow, a ray of hope finally made itself seeable. While the world as a whole wouldn't remember them, many would. The people they'd saved, they would remember. Everything those lives touched would be a testament to his children's lives, even if only a few people knew. He, himself, would honor his children.
He left that graveyard inspired with the knowledge of what an impact just one person could have, or even a small group of them. Every life mattered, and he was determined to save and better every one he could. In honor of his children, he would pour millions into a charity of his own creation, the ABC Davenport foundation. While he didn't know it then, that one action would touch hundreds of thousands of lives, lives that some may deem significant, yet every single one of them mattered.
"Hatred and sorrow are power, they are yours to control. All you have to do is turn them into strength and use that strength to move forward." -Sebastian Michaelis.
"Your deeds are your monuments." -Egyptian tomb inscription.
"The greatest use of life is to spend it for something that will outlast it." -William James.
Author's Note: On that cheery note, I'm going to ask you to please review or favorite if you liked this. I'll update Molon Labe before the New Year...if I can at any rate. Sorry, but I have midterms the week I get back...so, studying.
Happy New Year's and I hope you all had a Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Happy Kwanzaa/etc.