For my Danna. I don't own anything except the plotline. Not that it's any good.
Deidara cried. Sasori was gone, and there was nothing he could do about it. He cried for what seemed like eons, sobbing and screaming so loud and so hard that the whole Akatsuki could hear. Nobody dared disturb the grieving blonde. He was in hysterics, and nobody wanted to get in his way.
He had to get out. Not to be with Sasori, dammit, Sasori was gone, long gone, he had left, and that was that. Deidara could never get him back, and he knew that. It wasn't every day that someone like Deidara got so attached to someone, no, anyone. It wasn't like the ex-Iwa nin let anyone into his heart. Yeah, he had boyfriends, girlfriends, none really getting through the icy exterior. He had friends, but he knew they all left when he showed his true self.
Nobody could stand him.
Not even Sasori, the only one he had ever loved, could keep up the pretense for long. The pretense that he loved Deidara back. No, though; it was a completely one-sided relationship. It wasn't like the puppet had a soul anyway, let alone someone that could love. He knew enough to pretend to fit in, yes, but he could never feel true emotion, let alone love.
Deidara continued to cry until three in the morning. Still, nobody dared disturb him. Deidara knew that he could never live without his Danna. At three-thirty, the cries slowly died out. The rest of the Akatsuki were relieved, they could finally get to sleep.
Deidara had recalled some semblance of rationality, and decided to mimic what he could remember. However, his mimicry had nothing to do with the bubbly happiness that he normally personified. It was more of a cold rationality, with one goal in mind.
I must die.
But how? There were so many appealing methods. He couldn't blow himself up; then there wouldn't be anything to remind Sasori of how bad he had fucked up. 'Cause he had, inevitably, fucked up. Sighed and let go of the relationship. Showed up to Akatsuki meetings, but never talked to Deidara. It hadn't even happened gradually, just suddenly, snap.
And Deidara couldn't stand it anymore. He opted for a knife. A bread knife, a nice serrated edge to cut deep. He couldn't feel pain anymore. Physically and emotionally numb, that's what he was.
As he felt the knife's edges tear into his throat, he registered the pain, and chose to ignore it. As he fell to his knees attempting to grasp for air, he registered his helplessness and the blood everywhere without actually feeling anything. Just a deep sense of nothingness, and fulfillment. His purpose had been accomplished. There was nothing left to do but clutch his throat and watch the blood pour over his hands from his slashed jugular.
Just an attempt to get everything out. Short, for me, but I hope it gets the point across. It's exactly what I was thinking when my Danna left. Gabrielle, this hideous attempt is for you.