Disclaimer: I own nothing involved in this story unless I invented it myself. This is written for fun, not for profit.
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh
Title: Five Ways Pegasus Didn't Die
Character: Pegasus J. Crawford
Word Count: 500||Status: Complete
Genre: Angst, Drama||Rated: PG-13
Note: Since today, October 8, is Pegasus' birthday, I decided to write about him dying. Or not dying, as the case may be.
Challenge: 5drabbles
Feedback: All forms eagerly accepted. Concrit is loved the most, but everything is welcome.
Summary: To celebrate his birth, I wrote five drabbles about ways that Pegasus could've died, but didn't.
Pegasus arranged himself in front of Cyndia's portrait, wearing the suit he'd hoped to wear to their wedding one day. He wasn't legally old enough to drink wine yet, but a glass stood by his chair nevertheless: one with a special ingredient.
He picked the glass up and lifted it in salute to her. "I hope to see you again soon." The poison had no effect on the taste, he realized, as it slid down his throat. Good. He'd hate to throw up and ruin everything.
Was she smiling at him? He thought perhaps she was. He sipped again. Delicious.
Cyndia didn't remember what sleep was like anymore. She hadn't left her beloved's side in days. Her hand remained wrapped around his no matter what. He would not slip away without her being there with him. She would never leave him alone, not for a second.
"Pegasus..." The doctors had tried, she knew. But it was too much for them, and for him. The drugs kept him asleep and out of pain.
She winced as his eyes opened, showing a glimpse of disoriented brown. She couldn't take this. "Rest," she murmured. "I'll take care of everything."
He never woke up.
Four of his colleagues had already ended up dead or insane because they targeted Pegasus J. Crawford. Kaiba didn't pay enough to make him the fifth without some heavy duty insurance that he'd live through it.
Though in all truth, doing it like this was the easiest way. He aimed his rifle carefully, aiming for the territory between Pegasus's shoulders.
All this because he made up some stupid card game that the boss doesn't want his kid playing. One shot would end all of that.
Time to work. He fired. Pegasus Crawford fell to the ground. Another job well done.
Pegasus realized too late that the dust on his sketchpad wasn't just because of the faint breath of wind blowing in from the cave opening. He slammed the pad shut and started toward the corridor that led outside. A horrid scream of rage that wasn't human echoed all around.
What did I do wrong? He barely thought that before a huge chunk of ceiling slammed down in front of him, sealing him away from the exit. Another crashed behind him and he froze where he stood. I'm sorry?
Too late.
Some gods were not as inclined to forgiveness as others.
Ninety-seven. Pegasus still didn't quite believe he'd lived this long. He'd outlived almost everyone he'd ever known in his life. Except Crocketts, of course. He suspected his old bodyguard wouldn't give up the ghost until Pegasus himself did. Maybe not even then, just to be sure he wasn't pulling some kind of practical joke by being dead.
He closed his eyes and sighed. Sometimes he wondered if he weren't the one having the joke played on him. Seventy years without Cyndia. Wasn't that long enough? Couldn't he rest?
"Pegasus." Seventy years but he still knew her sweet voice. "It's time."
The End