Last Exit / Ethan Hardy Oneshot
After looking at that trailer I thought I'd write my version of events when Scott reappears. / TRIGGER WARNING /
"You're not real." Ethan mumbled bitterly. He continued to stare at the remains of Holby below him in an almost vegetative state, anything to become numb to the world around him.
"10 points for observation Dr Hardy." Scott sniggered, the blood from his fingertips dripping onto the ledge they sat on. "I'm that screwed up conscience of yours, you know, the thoughts of a murderer."
Ethan shook his head, desperately ignoring the sight beside him. He could feel his body shaking as the sun set and his tears that were long used up had dried pathetically to his face. His brain put emphasis on the word pathetic, because that is what he was.
A coward, a murderer, useless.
"You're never going to get rid of me are you?" Ethan gulped as the shrill of Scott's voice sent shivers through his spine. "I'll be here until you can finally come to terms with what you did, forgive yourself."
Ethan held a whimper in, he put his hands on his ears, pressed tightly, blocking the world like he always did. He shuffled closer towards the edge of the roof. The tears were back.
Don't listen, don't listen.
"Ah that's right, you'll never forgive yourself will you? You'll never forgive yourself for letting Cal die for his murderous brother." Scott looked deathly, like a zombie almost. It scared Ethan, it scared him a lot.
"I-I d-did the r-right thing." Ethan stuttered, the salty taste of tears causing his mumbles to become quieter and cries to escalate.
"You're no different to me." Scott winked, a heavy hand suddenly on Ethan's shoulder causing the doctor to flinch.
"S-stop"
"No, remember the game Dr Hardy, only you can make it stop." Scott smiled, that sadistic smirk his trademark in not only his past but his afterlife.
"I-I I'm n-nothing l-like you." Ethan sniffed, his head now in his hands. "P-please don't l-let me be l-like you, p-p-p-please." He was sobbing.
He shuffled closer to the edge.
"I'm sure old Cal is very proud." Scott huffed. "I'm sure you've done a great job of impressing your mothers."
"I-I t-tried-"
"Tried? You didn't try at all Ethan. You're weak, you're a coward." Scott chuckled, shuffling closer to the fragile form of once a stable doctor.
Ethan looked up for the first time. His eyes were dull, nearly as lifeless as Scott's who's were piercing through what soul he had left. He ringed his hands in and out, in and out. He couldn't help but stare at his disfigured greyish face, contrasting so well with the blood trickling down his head. He caused that. That was his doing.
"I-m n-not weak" He mumbled, but even he didn't believe it.
"Not weak?" Scott laughed. "Let's see shall we? Let's have a little look at mild mannered Ethan's life." He began squeezing Ethan's hand and suddenly the doctor thought he'd be sick.
"The goody two shoes, always trying to be better than his brother who had the natural talent. I'd call that a bit sly wouldn't you?"
Ethan's eyes shone with tears. He nodded.
"And then, Even though Good old Cal did his best to protect you, you cowardly let him take that final beating for you, even though we all know that the Huntington's is going to kill you in a few years. I'd call that pretty selfish wouldn't you."
Ethan couldn't speak. He just nodded.
"And just to top it off, put the icing on the cake. Weak little Ethan couldn't even avenge his brother like a man. You waited until I was strapped to a bed choking on my own sick to finally let me reap my consequence. I was expecting some spectacular fight where your inner strength would come out and knock me down like a sack of potatoes."
Ethan gulped.
"Ah, but that's right, you don't have any strength because you're weak Ethan Hardy, WEAK."
"Stop it." Ethan breathed, his eyes now dead on the ground below him.
"You can't handle it can you? You can't live on when others have died because of you." Scott was becoming less real by the second, his grip loosening but his words tightening around Ethan's neck.
"STOP IT!"
And with that Scott was gone.
But his words weren't.
They stuck. They stuck like a deathly quicksand suddenly pulling Ethan under. Scott was right. He was right about everything.
Ethan couldn't live with himself, not like this. He deserved pain. He deserved to reap the same consequences as Scott did.
He shuffled closer to the edge.
It was so quiet, so peaceful, so easy.
He let his legs dangle over the ledge, they felt light and numb, numb to the world around him. His tears were drying And he started take in what could be his final moments. He looked up at the sky, a shaky smile forming at the thought of seeing his brother.
But would Cal want to see him? Had he made him proud? Of course he hadn't. He couldn't even do living right.
This was it, a final exit a final release.
He'd tried, but life just wasn't worth it anymore, not after Cal, Alicia, Scott. No one wanted him, no one cared.
Hell, he didn't even care.
He was talking the last exit to freedom, the last chance to be free.
He slowly stood on the roof ledge, his body no longer shaking but deathly still. He was ready to jump, to end it all.
So he did.
