Disclaim: I do not in any way own Ben 10 or DarosFilms and other associated characters.
The cardboard was shredded, jagged because someone was in a rush to open it when they first moved in together, "When everything is out this will be our home," and he'd laughed then perfectly content in his ignorance of what was to be – now he cried. Smiling faces frozen in his hands he just had to hide in that box, their frames suddenly to cool for his skin, a broken box filled with broken memories, maybe if he shoved enough in there the pain would ebb away – fix broken things with broken things hoping the uneven ends would fit like a puzzle piece and mend the way his heart hadn't. Everything was in loving memory of when he finished. Their home now just his – just space with too much emptiness where stuff should be – white walls where happy moments hung were nothing but gaping holes in the plaster and his heart.
Alone – he didn't remember how to be that; too many years spent surrounded – was this what solitude is like once you've been robbed of everything, a million times worse? He's wished he never allowed himself this pain – wished he resisted the urge when it came instead of moving forward and diving in pulling peach lips onto his. He'd still be alone but he wouldn't be this alone – this open and raw and done sitting alone in a beach chair because all the furniture had been stained with images of them intertwined, sewn together with happiness. Their whole life boxed around him like a fortress to keep the good times away so perhaps the anger will be the only thing to consume him – not this bone heaving despair, he could do something with anger, nothing with this but to sit and stare blankly at far off laughter and green eyes.
A hand brushed his shoulder and for a moment he pretended, "What are you going to do with the camera?"
He clenched his hands, ribs of plastic pushed against his skin he felt nothing, "What camera?"
"Kevin you're holding it in your hand," pressure increased on his shoulder, the black camera heavy in his hands, cracked lens, and broken flash a reminder – Ben wouldn't be mad, he'd be furious.
His voice tightened – he didn't want – if he didn't accept it – it's not real if you don't accept it, "It broke in the…" it can't be real, "in the wreck."
Max leaned over him, grabbing the side guiding it out of his hands, he didn't want to let go but his fingers felt worn, too tired to clench only follow for as long as they could, "I always told Ben that he should do this for a living,"
"All he ever did was take pictures of trees, space, water and sunsets,"
He heard the clicking of buttons, the familiar whirl of artificial life, none of it registered barely, even the voice without a weight on his shoulder, it seemed disconnected, "It appears to be working fine now."
Leather shoes squeaked on the hardwood, "Here," cracked lens adjusting on his pale face.
"Max no," the broken flash turned the world impossible white, his breath cold in last season's autumn air, the sky egg shell blue, red leaves danced around him, "don't…"
The sound of a camera's click the scenery of the skyline of the city, buildings set aglow by the fading sun. Again and too the galaxy, stars pinpoints of reality, the moon a sliver of light. And again, water surged up around him, hardly dodging out of the way in time, a rainbow christening the sky.
"Kevin?"
The world tilted off axis, another click, and he was running on a sidewalk, his dress shoes splashing in a puddle of water leaked from a hydrant, graffiti words bubbling behind him, suspended above all I find you.
"I'm in the camera," breathlessly elated, "Ben's in the bridge picture."
The world flashes away, quickly, memories barely settling before the smell of water suddenly turns to that of the tree. Anticipation heavy in his stomach as the camera beeps the sound of a low battery, "Faster – scroll right!"
A familiar laugh cut short, "No! Go back!" Running to the left he steps in sand, "Ben…"
"Hurry up the sun is setting," he slides down the sandy hill scooping the love of his life in his arms that have been so cold for too long, twirling them so fast Ben's legs fly wild, settling in the sand, the red sun interrupted by the stark white of the bridge.
He digs in his pocket, scribbling on his hand in thick black lines, feeling something piece itself back together when Ben's hand skims over his chest.
Max licks his lip, picking up a new frame, hanging it securely above the mantle, just as Gwen walks by, "Where's Kevin?"
He walks away, curious she looks up seeing her cousin in his blue skinny jeans, his grey t-shirt blowing in the wind, bracelet covered hand pushing brown bangs behind his ear – all blurred in the background. Kevin's hand consuming half the frame his face light for the first time in a long while in bold print scrolled on his palm, leave me.
AN/ This is highly based off of the YouTube short film by DarosFilms. Depicting the tragedy of losing the one you love most. I'd recommend watching I tried to convey the desperation, paralyzing grief, and utter loneliness, but something about seeing the images just makes it so much more concrete. Just go to YouTube and type in Leave Me and it should be the first video. This will be a two shot that will include another of his heartbreaking short films.