Hello lovelies! (We finally have a BATW catagory! I hope DTTR counts as a part of that, I think it should at least!)
That being said, this story includes, death, suicide, vomiting, and other semi serious subject matters. Nothing is graphic or gory, I won't be detailing a suicide or anything, but it can get a little medically gross so if that bothers you feel free to move along to greener pastures :)
This story takes place after the ending "Out of breath" which if you've played the game you'll know how heart wrenching that ending is, so I wanted to give our dear Blanket Fellow a better take on it. I hope you all like it ;)
Warmth, the first thing he noticed, or perhaps the lack of icy numbness creeping through his veins.
Icecream?
The thought flashed across his subconscious along with the phrase warm apple pie.
He internally cringed, had he really said such odd things when he was dying? Those were hardly the last words anyone would want to be remembered by. Then again he wasn't worth remembering.
Dying?
Yes, now that he recalled, he was certain he had been lying on the floor dying. Yet here he lay, on something like a lumpy couch with something equally lumpy supporting his head.
Well he certainly wasn't in a hospital, so how had he gotten here? Wherever here was...
Racking his memory yielded nothing, and so his mind wandered back to the last person he'd spoken to. A girl, he had spoken to her for a short while on the phone, before he finally bit the bullet so to speak. He was too cowardly to pull the trigger in reality, bit the pill was more accurate. He had meant to call the suicide hotline, perhaps the alcohol had already blurred his vision, how else would he have gotten it so wrong.
Then again, it was probably for the best, they might have talked him out of killing himself, and then where would he be? Still alone in that cold empty house, lying on his empty bed, wondering what to do with his empty life. He was better off dead really.
But here he was...
The girl though... had she somehow found him? Had he, in his last unconscious breathes told her where he was? Had he sabotaged himself once more? Was it possible the girl he had drunkenly miss-dialed,saved his life?
A soft humming interrupted his inner dialog and he moved his head to the side ever so slowly to better catch the tune.
It was nothing he recalled, no memory attached to the melody, none the less the soft melancholy it hung heavy with captured his attention.
He wanted to see her.
She had refused him once, he recalled, when he begged to see her, to know her name and see her face...
"Let'stake this a little slower, why don't we talk on the phone until you feel tired enough to sleep." She had whispered soothingly.
But he was impatient and he had rushed her, and she had withdrawn in reasonable reluctance from him.
"I'm sorry, but I don't go to strangers' houses in the middle of the night..."
Those had been her exact words, true regret in each of them, but she was afraid of him, as she should be, as anyone should be.
A smile twitched at the edges of his lips, it seemed she would bring a stranger into her own home though. What a naughty little kitten. She had saved him though.
How embarrassing, to be rescued by the princess, he lamented.
Curiosity though won in the end, he wondered of his fair princesses appearance and carefully pried open his eyes.
Only to clutch them closed with a groan that rattled his aching chest.
The humming stopped abruptly.
His sluggish hands pressed to his face in some attempt to soothe the pain radiating from his skull.
"You're awake, that's a good sign you know."
He didn't, know that is, he whole body ached down to the bone and protested vehemently when the couch dipped with her added weight along side his hip.
"How are you feeling?"
The gentle question was accompanied by the cool touch of soft, delicate hands. They smoothed over his own and pulled them away to rest on his stomach before returning to head. The gently strokes eased some of the pounding and he relaxed into the couch.
"It hurts.." He admitted, his voice a mere whisper, a testament to his weakness.
He stubbornly pried his eyes open, the soft light of the only lamp in the room pierced his eyes. They watered as he kept them open, tears running tracks down his paled cheeks as he turned to see her.
She was plain, beautifully so, with a full face and dark brown almond eyes.
Her black hair, cut short just beneath her jaw in a sharp line contrasting her kind and patient smile that curled at the edges to his response.
"I imagine so. Everyone seems to think drinking and overdosing is a quick and painless death."
Her smile dimmed a little, and he felt a minor guilt at having caused it.
"For some, they just stop breathing and that's it, they suffocate. For others.. the body loses the ability to control their airways and the stomach then regurgitates the alcohol and stomach acids. They essentially die drowning in their own vomit without intervention."
His own stomach curled as she tucked her hair behind her ear and stood up.
How vile an explanation, why did such a sweet girl know these kinds of dark things?
"I'll make you a cup of tea, it'll help with your throat, its probably sore."
He hadn't noticed until she mentioned it, but his throat stung with an acidic taste he hastened to ignore.
The room was dim certainly, though she made her way through it with ease,a pair of slim dark jeans and overly large maroon hoodie clung to her. She was rather cute, he admitted, if you could look past the disturbing plethora of knowledge she boasted.
Just past the couch was a coffee table, and past it was a half wall separating what he assumed was the living room from the kitchen. He could see her pluck up a kettle from the stove and heard the tap run,hitting the metal as she filled it.
The mundane life noises eased his tensions. His curiosity however was piqued. He cleared his throat as best he could. His voice rang true though weak.
"You know, I wish I could thank you properly, for saving my life. I was wondering though, my dear. However did you manage to find me?"
The full kettle made a dejected 'ploink' as it was dropped unceremoniously to the stove top. The resounding silence was unending.
"I didn't save you."
The clicks of the gas stove unnerved him as the flame finally sparked.
"O-oh?Then you must have called the police, either way really I do owe you-"
"You're dying."
He sat up then, dizzy, and his very bones protested as he set his feet to the carpet.
"I'm afraid I don't understand my dear, I feel very, very much alive."He strained a charming smile, "Even more so after seeing your lovely visage."
She seemed unfazed as she leaned back against the stove, her arms folded across her stomach. She spoke unflinchingly and without remorse.
"Right now, in that house of yours, you are dying. Lying in a puddle of your own vomit, your brain is slowly being deprived of oxygen and as the seconds tic by you inch closer and closer to true death."
She sighed then, as if she hadn't just ruthlessly upended his world and went rummaging through the cabinet above the stove.
"I'm sorry, I'm not very good at this part, I had hoped to ease you into this, most people don't take it well."
He could imagine, as his lungs spasmed in a laugh or a sob he couldn't say,
"So I've finally done it then? It's finally over..."
His back thumped against the lumpy couch and his posture slumped.
"Not quite, you are dying yes, but you aren't entirely dead. It's why I was able to bring you here."
She had busied herself, pulling open a canister of sugar and spooning an unhealthy portion into one of two worn and chipped mugs. The kettle began to steam and he watched the plume with detached interest
"How many spoons do you take?"
"Two..."He recalled absently, "Who are you? You aren't the girl I called last night, or are you? How did I get here? Why am I here?"
"So many questions..." She tutted motherly as she fixed his tea and picked up both mugs before joining him. "That's a good sign though,means you're coming round. Here, have some tea, it helps."
He took the hot mug in shaken hands and held it close to his body, as if it would warm away the chill creeping into his body.
She sat beside him on the lumpy sofa, close enough to share her warmth,though not quite near enough to touch. She sighed softly, relaxed,and took a sip of tea.
"I go by Death, some call me the Grim Reaper, though given half a chance I can be rather friendly, not that it happens often."
She leaned back, squirming slightly into the sofa to get more comfortable.
"You should drink your tea, it really does help."
Death pulled up her long thin legs up to her chest and curled the mug between her hands like a cat curling around a ball of yarn.
"As for how you got here, that's a little trickier. Its my job to ferry souls from the land of the living to the afterlife. Now I won't spoil it for you, but most souls usually pass on very quickly, so much so that I barely get a glimpse of them. Unless they have a regret strong enough to give them pause, unless their soul cleaves to their body. Then I can ferry that soul here, like you."
Dead.
The thought ran through his mind over and over. He was dead, but he was sitting in Death's parlor, very much the fly to her spider; and he wondered, he had wanted this hadn't he?
The mug seared into his palms, he clutched to the pain, the warmth,chasing away the numbing fear that crept into his limbs.
He had wanted to die. He had. Truly. Or... Perhaps, he had wanted to just stop living with the guilt? Perhaps he just wanted to be free of the gnawing, burning anguish he had brought upon himself. But he had deserved it hadn't he? All the terrible things he'd done, surely,death at the very least was something he deserved. Surely Death herself knew that as well.
"Why am I here? Why did you bring me here, I should be dead right now."
Death hummed cheerfully in agreement around a mouthful of tea before swallowing audibly.
"Indeed,you certainly should be. Thankfully you've got a very stubborn spirit. Time passes differently here, slower, much slower than in the living world. It may even buy you enough time for your body to be saved."
A spark of alarm twitched at the back of his mind. "That's not possible, no one knows where I am, no one, and you said yourself that I'm dying."
"You are. Your soul however refused to pass, it was weighted down with regrets, and I was able to ferry it here, where, since your soul is still safe, your body might recover. If the paramedics are quick enough."
She gave him an encouraging smile, "You know, your odds aren't great,but I would bet on you making it, if I gambled.
"Why...?"
A whisper so broken he wasn't sure she could possibly hear it.
"Why,when you of all people must know the real me, the true me. You've seen what I've become, the lives I've ruined and tarnished with my own hands!"
Angry tears gathered in his eyes, refusing to yield to gravity, yet pooling ever deeper as he faced Death.
"How can you give a monster like myself this chance, this gift, if you had any notion of the people I've hurt, the lives... The lives..."
He seemed to fade then, the anger dissipating like steam from hot mug in his hand.
"Why do this for me? A monster like me? When I deserve this, I deserve to die."
Death tucked inky black locks behind her ear and tapped her fingers along her mug.
"Do you know how long I've held this position? I'm not the first Death,nor will I be the last. A day will come when I am held accountable for the deaths I prevented or delayed and the ones I reckoned in haste before their threads had been severed properly. A day when I have to answer for every mistake and triumph."
He wasn't sure how to feel about this new information, was Death human?Once human? A reincarnation of itself? Who holds Death accountable for anything?
Death continued on, oblivious, or more likely studiously ignoring the questions plaguing him.
"You think that you're a monster but I've reaped monsters. Men and women who, for the sheer pleasure of it,throw away their humanity like rags to torture and murder and rape and sully the lives of people who've never lifted a hand against them. I've ferried their souls, terrible dark weights dragging down their souls so heavily with hate and malice that I can barely lift them. Souls so entrenched in darkness and vile energy that there is no hope left for them at all."
Tears now gathered in Deaths eyes, silently, steadily, coursing down her full cheeks.
"Do you know the only thing I've never heard a monster say?"
She turned to him then, her eyes bright with unshed tears and her cheeks blotchy and red.
"Never,never once have I heard their souls ache with true regret and claim 'I deserve to die.'"
He drew breath, to argue, or console perhaps, the only entity who had seen his entirety and not turned away disgusted but she hushed him gently.
"I know, I'm Death after all. I've seen them, the lives and the souls you've touched, and destroyed. I've carried some of those souls myself. I know the bloodstains you still feel on your hands and the echoes of a fading heartbeat you know too well."
She uncurled her protective posture and with her free hand she took his in her own.
"But I've carried your soul in my own hands. I've felt the regret tied to it, the anger and self loathing you carried alongside your sins. You are still not a monster beyond redemption though, you can still change things, change the lives around you for the better. You can choose to do more, to put back more kindness and happiness into the world before your life truly ends."
She squeezed his hand in hers, the warmth of her skin sinking into his and she nibbled her bottom lip as if she wasn't sure what to say, or if she should say it. Death sighed and shook her head.
"Look, you aren't ever going to be able to bring back those you've lost, even I can't do that, and you won't be able to take back the things you've done. You can however still make a difference in the lives of those around you now, by doing better, and being better if you'll give yourself a chance. "
Still not beyond redemption? Surely she jested- but no. Death, surely Death would know the extent of his crimes. Surely if Death thought he was capable... Capable of what exactly?
He scoffed at the very idea.
"How would one such as myself even begin? I could just go right back to what I've done. What I've always done... Maybe I'll just kill myself again. How do you know I won't?"
Death smiled helplessly and laughed, untangling her fingers from his and rubbing at her eyes with her hoodie sleeve, "I don't really, I mean, I hope you won't . I hope if you choose to go back that you won't, that you'll try to improve your life and that of those around you. Like that girl you mentioned,she's rather worried about you."
He wondered, she was a sweet girl for trying, "I suppose I owe her that much if she's gone to the trouble of finding me and trying to save me..." He could try again if it was for her.
Death huffed, "You have to do this for yourself, it won't mean anything if you always stake your worth in someone or something else. You have to want to be better for the sake of it, not because a pretty girl-"
She paused as if hearing something he couldn't and gently took the untouched mug of tea from his hands.
"We don't have a whole lot of time, the paramedics were a little quicker than I thought, lucky you."
The murmured sarcasm and the way she hovered beside him was beginning to make him doubt that statement, "How did they-" A sudden flare of pain in his throat silenced him, like knives scraping down the inside. A sense of panic enveloped him as he turned towards Death. Her eyes were cold and distant as if she were seeing something he couldn't even as she met his stare.
"Wha-"His voice barely came out, it was hoarse and breathy and he inhaled sharply, panicking now as his breath came faster and faster but it felt like he wasn't getting any air at all!
Suddenly a pair of hands stroked along either side of his face and Death hushed him softly, the faraway look replaced with concern as her fingers worked tiny circles along his jawline.
"Its alright, calm down, breath with me now, slowly, just like this."
She took his hand and pressed it to her breast, her breath slow and even,steadily flowing in and out. He tried to match his to hers, afraid to stop and lose his breath again, it stuttered in hiccuping rasps he couldn't control and her hand squeezed his painfully, grounding him.
Minutes, Hours, Seconds, he didn't know, until finally his lungs stopped seizing.
"That's it, nice and slow, in and out. In. And out. Keep going, just like that, are you starting to feel a little calmer now?" Death smoothed his long hair out of his face and tucked it behind his shoulders, little things to try and keep him from relapsing
His heart was still pounding a mile a minute but he could finally breathe and he nodded shakily and she released his hand.
"What's happening to me?" He swiped at the tears in his eyes, frustrated with himself for breaking down, especially in front of a woman.
"The paramedics just preformed an emergency intubation on you, they had to force the airways open so you could breathe. They're trying to save your life, painful as it may be."
He shook his head in disbelief, "They shouldn't have been able to find me, I'm sure of it, I never told that girl where I was, or my name, nothing that would have led them there."
Death's grin quirked to the side a bit, "No, but you would be surprised what a little technology and a credit card will get you these days."
His shoulders slumped, Ah, so that is how it was, right from the beginning she had planned to ? He wasn't sure if he should be feeling betrayed, however that was exactly what it felt like. She hadn't really wanted to talk to him, she only wanted to keep him on the line long enough to send someone else to deal with him.
"You stop that right now." Death warned him sternly, her slim finger jabbing into his side, "I won't have any of that self loathing type of thought in my apartment, she sent someone to help you, to save your life, not 'deal with you'. If you're going to make anything of this opportunity you've got to stop thinking like that. Now I meant it when I said we're running out of time, you have to make a choice."
She stood up and offered him her hand, "Are you going back? Or will go move on? It's your choice, even now, but if they bring your body back your soul will be dragged back to it and won't connect if you aren't ferried properly." She pressed her lips together tightly, "You don't want that happening, its incredibly painful.."
He took her hand hesitantly, he wasn't sure he wanted to go back, but he wasn't ready to go on to wherever his afterlife might be. "Alright-"
Searing pain erupted in his chest and exploded, clutching at his chest he sunk the floor, Death catching him up by the arms and lessening the impact.
"Shit,they are really doing their best to bring you back huh? Come on, up you get, we haven't the time for this." She seemed frustrated as she tried to heave him up by herself, he was painfully aware of how weak he was at the moment as his legs refused to cooperate with his demands to move.
He laughed breathlessly, "I've heard Death curse..."
Death gave him a pained smile, "You'll be hearing a lot worse if you don't get up, come on, we have to get you out of here."
For such a small girl Death was incredibly strong, or perhaps his soul was light, but she threw his arm over her shoulder and hoisted him off the floor, nearly loosing her balance as she steadied herself and they stumbled forward into the kitchenette.
"You're doing terrible things to self esteem love." The pain was starting to get to him, loosening his tongue and making him light headed as she helped him into the kitchen.
Another burst of agony shot through him and he lunged towards the sink, his legs collapsing as he caught himself up on the counter. Death held his hair back as he vomited up the contents of his stomachs, retching again and again until only bile came up.
"That's it, you're doing great, your body is really fighting hard to comeback, so we have to get you out of here pronto alright? Come on, lean on me.."
He reached for the tap to the sink but she pulled him away, "We don't have the time sweetie, come on, wheres that self esteem at hm? You gonna make me carry you out cause I will."
Her gentle taunting prompted him into action, his legs wobbling under him and he clutched at his chest warily stepping forward, Death held his hand and pulled him towards the plain oak door just beyond the kitchen. His vision blurred, the door swinging wildly black and forth in front of him and he gripped Deaths shoulder to steady himself.
"Almost there sweetie, come on, just a bit further- Fuck!"
He crumpled to the floor and his eyes rolled back in his head, Death gathered him up, rocking him gently and waited impatiently for the shaking to stop. "Come on love, just a little more, come back, they aren't ready for you just yet." She pushed the hair from his face and paled, he wasn't with her anymore...
"We've got a pulse!"
Blinding light and a siren greeted him, he tried to swallow, tried to speak,but there was something in his throat, he couldn't swallow, he couldn't breathe!
"Easy there fella, its alright, its just a tube to help you breathe. Calm down or it'll just feel worse."
The gruff voice was accompanied by a hand griping his shoulder, pressing him down against the hard surface of something. An acidic smell filled his nostrils and he gagged, trying not to breathe the stench in while also trying to actually breathe at the same time.
"Come on kid, stop fussing, you're going to tear your throat up, just relax, take a deep breath."
The voice didn't understand, he couldn't see! He couldn't breathe! Panic seized him and his body jerked, suddenly his lungs clenched and he heard shouting again.
"He's flatling! Wait... It's back.. Fuck you're killing me here kid, Frank get the paddles back! Defib two hundred! Clear.
"It's still irregular, again, clear."
The next thing he knew he was lying on the floor of Death's apartment sucking in air as fast as possible. Coughing and breathing and coughing again as his lungs finally obeyed him.
"You're back, oh thank god you're back!" Death threw her arms around his neck and hugged him fiercely. Her hands were in his hair, stroking against his scalp like a mother would a distressed child and he melted into the touch.
Death pulled away and kissed his forehead gently, "You're okay, you came back..."
Without warning Death transformed from the visage of worried mother to an enraged one, she pulled back and smacked his arm, "Don't you DARE do that again! Do you have any idea how terrified I was?! I thought you got trapped there! I thought you had become a shade and I was too late and and-" Her breath hiccuped as she pulled her sleeves over her hands to wipe away the tears.
Her eyes were filled with tears when she pulled them away, and he recalled that though mere seconds passed there, minutes at most, it had been much longer for her here, all alone.
His arms wrapped around her small frame and for the first time since he knew her name he hugged the young scared girl, not Death. She cried into his shoulder, and he held her there, aware that any moment he could be dragged back, but he couldn't just ignore her pain. It was his turn to run his fingers through her dark hair and make quiet shushing sounds.
"I know, I'm sorry love, can't promise it won't happen again but I've learned my lesson, no more field trips." He gave her a watery smile she returned with a half laugh half sob.
"Alright,that's fair, we have got to get you out though, I don't think I could handle it if that happened again." Death wiped her eyes again and stood up, pulling him up along with her. "And if you ever tell anyone that just happened I'll personally haunt you, wherever you decide to go, I've got a reputation to keep."
He laughed then, truly, and grinned tiredly, "You make it sound so tempting but those guys are trying so very hard to save me and I'd hate to disappoint them by dying."
Death nodded, sobering up and helping him to the front door of the small apartment. "So have you decided then? You're going back?" She stood waiting with her hand round the bronzed doorknob and looked at him expectantly, her eyes reddened around the rims, and hopeful.
He was going to miss her he realized, he was going to miss Death, the one person who might understand him. But he could always see her again, after all, no one escaped Death forever, not that he really had any plans to try it.
"Of course, I'll be on my best behavior too so you won't have to scold me next time." He gave her a wink and relished the pink tinge that spread across her cheeks.
"Just remember to be good for you. Now, are you ready?"
He nodded, "Ready as I'll ever be love."
She opened the door, and it swung out into a pitch black void, "Well then, Allons~y"
Well little doves, I hope you enjoyed my story, a little short, and a little obtuse for an ending but I really wanted to stop with the Doctor quote, it seemed too fitting ^^; I also can't claim credit for Death's character, her attitude is all mine, but she's based off a very similar character from The Books Of Magic, and I really loved how they handled it there and thought it could be really fitting in this setting as well.
Tell me how I've done if you liked it and check out my other stories if you prefer :3
Remember, take care of yourselves!