It never really made sense why things ended up as they did. It never really made any sense, anything that ever happened. And it made less sense now than ever. The sun was shining brightly, the pale rays of the dawn breaking through the soft clouds. Somewhere the birds in the treetops sang. Damn them for not caring.
The grass was still wet with dew and so was the pale red cloth that hung lazily around the thin form. Everything was still damp from the night, life still not fully crawling into everything again. Some things would never awaken.
Eyes slowly opened, parting gently and looking around. Only eyes and nothing more. They could see that the sun had begun to rise, that the sky was still pastel pink and blue like cotton candy at a fair. They could see the stirring of life around them, put off in a word apart. They closed and breathing became a conscious effort. The eyes opened again, memories flooding back. Like lightning strikes they came, blow after blow landing upon inanimate objects, the careful dance that kept the living from death's door. In short flashes the entire night was relived. Tears fell from the opened eyes.
They searched the ground, finding a tangled mass of limbs, any previous colour of clothing being washed and caked in life giving soil. Brown stains etched into the fabric, trickles of dirty red running across them. The tangled mass of limbs did not move. There wasn't a single motion that was wasted on comfort that actually wasn't needed. Not one.
The flashes melded together as the eyes shut again, squeezing tightly to halt the tears that flowed. A scream echoed in his ears, his blood running cold. He had screamed. It was his own scream he remembered. It brought unconscious wracking sobs to remember. It wasn't fair.
He had screamed at the sight of red. The instant that red seeping into the world and dripped to the ground. The moment that a body had joined the crimson pools, splashing up onto the cloth. The soft misting of rain diluted the scarlet and sickened pink stains appeared.
He had been the only one who'd screamed. There wasn't another, there hadn't been a cry from the now cold lips. They simply trembled slightly, parted as only to allow a slow stream of air to pass. One pair of eyes had fallen shut then, one pair of legs had crumpled, one pair of lives had been destroyed.
The living eyes stayed closed, letting bitter tears fall from them, lacing dark lashes and guiding down sharp cheekbones. Movements came to be, a needful pulling towards the lifeless body beside him. The eyes that would never see, the lips that would never kiss the morning, the skin that would never again be soft and warm. The cloth around him was stiff from the life that had drained from within and crackled minutely upon being touched. The living creature cried silently, burying his face in the damp shirt of his lover. It wasn't fair.
Only sorrow was left. All other emotions had been released in the scream. Disbelief, fear, pure and unbridled hatred, all had exploded from within. The rain fell merrily about, unaware that it was dancing upon such despair. All emotions had come forward, fueling the living body to leap forward, to extend its pain into another. Another had died last night. He too was still in the sunlight, his clothing damp with dew. His lifeless eyes stared at the sky, all the inner shine gone. He had collapsed in the field, his hand at his chest, a futile attempt to stop the blood from escaping.
Who cared for him. Who cared for the ender of lives, the killer of love. Someone's baby had died last night. Someone's lover had died last night. Someone's only need had died last night and had not risen like the sun. It was thanks to the body lying in the field, uncared for and dead. No more would fall to his cruelty.
The only one who lived wished for death. He prayed through sobs that he could exchange his life for one last moment of happiness, unfettered by evil and destruction. If the devil had wanted him, he would have gladly gone if only his love had been spared.
The tears stopped eventually, exhaustion overcoming the living creature. He stayed with his head upon the chest of his lover, nearly hoping to suddenly find a heartbeat, to be rewarded for all his pain by one breath. His logical mind told him it was impossible. That he was dead. He was dead just like the man in the field. Nothing could change that hard reality.
Their bodies had been left intertwined last night. The surviving boy had brought his lover close, pulling him as near as physically possible. He felt the once soft skin become slickened with blood, the beautiful hair matted by exertion and rain. He had felt the warm blood on his own hands, the life passing through them like wind. He wished he hadn't fallen asleep. He couldn't remember having lapsed into unconsciousness. He had stayed awake into the early morning when the sky was grey. He stayed up all night with his only love, holding him close, feeling the beating of his heart, the laboured breaths that he took. He had fallen asleep in his arms and lay there softly still. He must've died soon after. He was so cold...
A strangled whimper crawled from the raw throat of the living creature, his forlorn wail dying in the trees. He feared he would cry again, his throat contracting against itself. His chest rose and fell shallowly. A disbelieving smile forced its way across his lips.
"Hey... If it means that much to you..." he choked, speaking softly to the boy in his arms. "...I'll call you Cid..."
Tears ran down his face again, his mouth thick and coated. He smiled at the pale face below him, the softly set features rimmed in gold. He leaned down and listened for a reply. It never came. He turned his head a little, his lips pressing against his lover's. He withdrew sharply, crimson eyes open in shock. The lips were warm.
He stared in disbelief at the form in his arms, the crumpled small form in his arms. He dropped his head to the boy's chest, his breathing silenced. There was nothing and despair began to return. He could feel his eyes watering again.
Ba dum...
Ba... dum...
He sat up again, his hair falling from his shoulders. His scarlet eyes stared at the pale face, the partially opened mouth. There was a small flicker of movement. The lifeless eyes opened to slits, the azure within fairly glowing in the pale dawn. A numbness fell over the red-eyed creature, his lips trembling. He could only draw the boy close again, holding him so very carefully, afraid to lose the flickering of life again.
They sat beneath the metal bleachers, motionless. The survivor cried and the near dead boy lay softly against him. Neither noticed as the small green marble dulled in the grass beside them. Eventually, reason would arrive and medical attention would be sought. But the last request of a heartbroken child had been granted and that was too amazing to ignore.
And somewhere in the treetops, birds sang.