A/N: So, this is sort of sad, because death isn't exactly easy to get over. Just so you know, some of the happenings I described in this fic are real to brain cancer patients, especially when they slip into dementia.
I don't own EEnE.
Tears must fall
Kevin hated it, and loved it, at the same time.
It was sad, and he was a bit happy, at the same time.
Two conflicting emotions and thoughts mashed in his mind, and he had found himself smiling at his mother's funeral, tears collecting in his eyes. He quickly blinked them away, because he felt that tears made him weak.
He had felt the pair of strong arms around his shoulders, drawing him into a side-hug, a sloppy kiss placed on his forehead, probably his father, and he was confused at the two emotions waging war inside his rapidly rising and falling chest. He stuck his fist in front of his lips to stop the sob that threatened to rake through his body.
He wasn't listening to what the preacher was saying, but he was the second person to throw a handful of rose leaves onto her casket as it was lowered into the earth. He vaguely heard the 'ashes to ashes, dust to dust' speech, but as soon as the last petal touched the darkened wood, he turned heel and ran. He ran as far as his legs could carry him and as far as his blurred vision would allow him.
She was gone. The one person he could trust was gone. She had been stolen by cancer, which, at first, had bloomed in her body like a simple flower, refusing to be defeated even after countless therapies and two operations, refusing to lie down after two years. That flower had become a weed in her life, and no matter how hard she fought it, it won.
He slid down against the nearest tree, his head covered by his arms, and the sob finally leaving his body with a violent shudder. What would anyone think now, if they saw the star player for the baseball team losing himself, crying his eyes out? He wanted to think that his teammates would comfort him, would let him know that if he ever wanted to talk, they were willing to listen, but he knew that wasn't the case.
He heard a twig snap nearby and his head snapped up violently. He didn't expect to see the dork he hated the least there.
"Greeting, Kevin." Double D said carefully. He liked this dork a lot more than he liked Eddy, in fact Edd wasn't half bad, and he was almost fond of the dork and the way he spoke. Double D had become a rather good friend to him, helping him in his studies and listening to Kevin rant about his frustrating relationship with his father.
"Hey, Double D." Kevin greeted, though his voice was thick. Double D looked at the ground next to him, and Kevin could almost hear Double D thinking of the array of germs, and was shocked when the smaller boy sat down next to him.
"I know you probably don't want to hear this, but… it's over. She isn't suffering anymore." Double D said cautiously, and he put a hand on Kevin's arm. Kevin smiled again. Edd was clueless, that isn't something you say to someone who just lost someone so dear to them. Kevin still appreciated the sentiment, because it meant that Double D, out of shape and who had abhorrence for any and exercise, had run all the way after him to offer some sort of comfort.
"I know, dork, I know. I just… why did it have to her?" Kevin asked, his voice breaking near the end, "She was so kind and honest and she was one of the best people in the world, one of the sweetest people and she even liked Eddy… Edd, why couldn't it have been me?"
"That's life, I'm afraid. It holds many pointless things, like death, things that we shouldn't understand… I also feel the need to point out that, had it been you, your mother would've returned the sentiment." Edd said, his hand still on Kevin's arm. Kevin could see that Edd was utterly lost, out of his element, but Kevin did feel a bit better. He hadn't expected an answer to his question, but this was Edd they were talking about.
The last few months had been awful. His mother had become bedridden, and they had to put a catheter in, and they had to feed her because she couldn't feed herself, and they had to bathe her… she had been reduced to an infant, and that was what broke his heart most.
He briefly remembered a poem he'd done in his English Lit class, about the seven ages of man, and he thought it was true, no matter your age, before you die you're reduced to an infant. Even when you're murdered and you have the chance to beg for your life, you become a crying mess.
Her eyes had become sunken, and she couldn't recognise him anymore… and then she was completely blind, the brain cancer spreading to other parts of her brain, taking over her bodily functions.
Her hair had been shaved off, with his hair and his father's following suit, and he recalled at least three T-shirts that they had had to throw away because she'd bitten holes in it in her demented state. He had kept one; it was hidden in his closet, some part of her for him to hold onto.
One day she didn't recognise his voice, and that was the first and only day he cried. She was his best friend, as odd as it was for a seventeen year old boy to consider his mother his best friend, and she didn't even recognise him!
One day, just as baseball practice began, his father called him. Kevin's blood immediately went ice cold, because he already knew. He'd answered the phone, his hand shaking, and his father said the two words he had been dreading since they found out she had brain cancer two years prior.
She's gone.
Immediately a massive relief washed over his overstressed body, his muscles loosening up and his mind splitting wide open, but it mixed with dread. He was glad she was gone, but only because she had been in so much pain the last few weeks. He felt bad for thinking this. He felt sad that she was gone too.
He'd asked Nazz to drive him home after running off the field, his coach screaming after him, because he wouldn't be able to drive, and Nazz promised she'd explain to the coach what had happened. She steered with one hand, her other hand on his shoulder. He made a comment that it was crap news to receive over the phone with a cynical laugh.
He hadn't cried, he hadn't said anything, because he was sure his voice would crack and he would lose his composure; he just walked into his home and was enveloped by his father in a hug. He felt his father's body shake. He still didn't cry.
Kevin then did something he never in a million years thought he'd do: he put his head on Edd's shoulder and let loose. He let his cropped up tears fall, sobs leaving his body. Edd didn't move, he didn't say anything; he just folded his arms around the jock and rubbed his back soothingly.
Kevin didn't know how long he cried, but once he was finished he felt better, as odd as it sounded, and he gave an unsuspecting Edd a rather tight hug. Kevin wasn't one for hugs, and he knew Edd didn't like physical approaches, and preferred a fist bump to anything else, but Edd must have broken a lot of his rules to allow Kevin to sob on his shoulder in the first place.
"I know you're not okay," Edd said, and Kevin knew Edd was simplifying his language so that he could understand, "It will take a long while for you to be okay." Kevin didn't think he'd ever be okay, but he didn't say anything.
Kevin rubbed his eyes (he was suddenly tired) and nodded at the dork's words. He should probably stop thinking of Edd as 'dork'. Kevin offered the shorter boy a smile, and Edd returned it with a nervous smile.
"Come on, we'd better head back." Kevin reasoned. And with that the two contrasting boys left the creek, with Edd dusting them both off, and Kevin made a silent promise break the status quo and to hang out with Edd, because, quite honestly, his teammates were idiots.
The funeral party had moved to a hall, where snacks and drinks were served to the guests, but Kevin didn't feel in the mood to be told his mother had been picked by God so He could beautify His heavenly garden, because Kevin felt God could make his own flowers; he didn't want to hear that it was better now, she wasn't in pain, or to hear that she was watching out over him from heaven, or to hear that she was the rainbow he would see next, or any of that. He knew Edd had said the same thing, but somehow, he believed it, while all the funeral goers wouldn't be sincere and a bunch of phonies.
He trudged to his house, bidding farewell to Edd, and entered the empty house. His father was still at the hall. He wandered over to the room she'd slept in, a hospital bed against one wall and a radio perched on an end table next to it. He recalled one day, in her dementia endorsed state, that she had sung "Gangnam Style" repeatedly, and just the chorus too.
She had been impossible on some days, but he would treasure her. He would keep her with him wherever he went in life, and he would behave himself too, because she'd kick his ass if he messed up.