A/N: After Donnie sacrifices himself. In a limbo of sorts. There's also references from Kurt Vonnegut's The Cat's Cradle. I've taken some lines from the book and incorporated it into Donnie Darko.
Disclaimer: I do not own Donnie Darko nor do I own The Cat's Cradle.
oOo
"If the sky were to suddenly open up, there would be no law, there would be no rule... If this world were to end, there would only be you.. and him.. and no one else.."
Donnie sat on the edge of his bed. His brows furrowed as he looked down at hands. They were covered in green paint. His brown hues weren't focusing. He felt dizzy. Donnie had no recollection of how his hands became this peculiar shade of green so he went to ask his sister.
The boy stumbled toward his door; his legs felt wobbly. He leaned against his doorframe for support, breath slightly irregular. He heard somebody whisper in the dark hallway, "Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?" Donnie chose to ignore the question and proceeded to stagger to his older sister's room.
"Elizabeth?" Elizabeth Darko held the phone to her ear, eyes glued to her younger brother.
"No, I took a year off to be with you.. of course I care. Don't get angry," she said into the phone, sitting on the ground, back against the wall furthest from her bedroom door.
"Elizabeth?" Donnie repeated, hesitantly, the anxiety building up in the pit of his stomach until he began to feel sick. His chest tightened. He was going to panic.
"You can go suck a fuck.." Elizabeth glared at Donnie. His sister had not the time, nor patience to deal with him, it seemed. So he went to his father. He found his father where he always seemed to be at night—sitting in his recliner, in front of the television, either asleep or watching the screen. Donnie cocked his head at the blank expression on his father's countenance.
"Dad?" Eddie Darko blinked, attention drawn to the screen. Donnie turned to see what was so tantalizing. His mother and father were lying side-by-side on a bed in a familiar room. The boy searched his memory and recalled the Holiday Inn his family stayed at after the jet engine destroyed the roof of their home.
"He died, remember? On the way to prom," The image of Eddie on the television paused for a moment, "He was doomed." Rose laid beside her husband, reticent, back facing him. The screen flickered before the televised Eddie continued, "Jesus Christ. They could have said the same thing about Donnie. Our Donnie," another pause, "But he dodged it. He dodged his bullet, Rose." The woman rolled over to embrace him, head nestled against his chest, his arms wrapped around her, "That's my boy."
"Dad?" Donnie faced his father once more, hands outstretched before him, palms up.
Eddie mumbled, "Pay no attention to Frank, son. He doesn't have the slightest idea what's really going on." The boy left, not confused by the strange response, not troubled by the fact he got any sort of response at all when he had expected none; he was only vaguely curious. Hands still green, he went to his parents' bedroom to ask his mother.
When he could not find her there, he wandered to the kitchen, where one would expect to find a mother. When she was not there, he ventured out to the trampoline in the backyard. He scanned the area, looking for any trace of a woman that might be a mother. When he found none, he meandered toward a large oak tree, seemingly out of place in the Darko backyard.
He stopped at the base of the tree and looked up. Though it was day, there was no sun. There were no clouds to block the sun. There was no wind, the sky was deprived of any color it could, and should have had. Though there had been no sun to give off rays of light, the boy was still blinded as he looked through the leaves of the tree and he remembered. Rose was dead.
But he had saved her.. he saved Samantha. He saved the world. Where was his mother?
The boy stepped back, only curious as to why he suddenly could no longer remember his mother's face, could not remember the sound of her voice, or the smell of her perfume, or her warm touch. Hands still green, he found his way to the front of his house and stared down the road. No cars drove by. The occupants of the houses nearby were not standing on their lawns, chatting to each other. The street seemed void of any life, save Donnie Darko. He walked down the street, not knowing where to go, but felt an overwhelming desire for something different.
As he walked, he came upon a wooden fence. A red figure that resembled the silohuette of a person adorned the fence, and a thin redheaded girl stood before it, staring at it with awe. Donnie felt as if he knew this girl, but could not place his finger on it for some reason. He stood beside her and studied the painting, trying to see what she saw. The boy asked her, "What brought you here?" The girl continued to stare at the painting, mouth ajar.
After a moment that lasted eternity, she replied, "The Philosophy of Time Travel.." The boy looked at her and mused for a moment before nodding, not taking his eyes off of her, "Donnie Darko? What the hell kind of name is that? What're you, some kind of superhero?"
Donnie hadn't seen her lips move, how did she know his name? "What makes you think I'm not?" Silence.. and then:
"Donnie?"
"Yeah?"
"Do you ever feel as though there's always someone watching you?" Donnie didn't answer. There was another silence, an uncomfortable silence as he shifted his weight from one leg to the other, "You want to kiss me.."
The boy gazed at her before nodding, deciding then and there that she was the most beautiful creature he had ever laid his eyes upon, "I like you a lot.."
"I just want it to be.. at a time when.. it.."
"When what?"
"When it reminds me just.."
"When it reminds you of how beautiful the world can be?" The girl nodded, never taking her eyes from the red painting on the fence. Donnie sighed and hung his head in defeat. He would never get the kiss he yearned for. The world would never be beautiful.
"Gretchen.. where can I find Frank?" He asked, not sure why he thought she might know.
"You're wrong about the rabbits, Donnie," Her brows furrowed, disdainfully, "they are the product of the author's imagination. And he cares for them. So we care for them too. We care that their home has been destroyed.. and that their lives are in danger. Otherwise.. we've missed the point.."
"Don't get me wrong.. I like bunnies and all. They're cute and they're horny.. and if you're cute and you're horny, then you're probably happy that you don't know who you are.. or why you're even alive."
The girl didn't hide her annoyance, "Frank's gang's done gone away. You won't find him here." Donnie was mildly disappointed. He opened his mouth, but she spoke first, "Fools rush in where angels fear to tread; Frank does not want to be found. Neither should you." He couldn't imagine why he would want to be found.
Donnie said before turning to leave, "I can do anything I want. So can you." He motioned toward the painting. The girl's eyes widened, and she realized. She had done it, and she was suddenly very, very afraid. Donnie left her as she collasped to her knees, sobbing loudly. He knew he would never see her again, but it broke his heart because he was so in love with her.
So, Donnie walked. And he walked, and he walked. He encountered no other souls, nobody to guide him, nobody for him to break down, piece by piece. He didn't know how long it had been since he awoke with hands painted green. Time didn't matter to him, it never did. He had all the time in the world to come to dead ends, and riddles with no answers. He should have been lonely, with nothing but his green hands but he wasn't. He just wanted to know why. He shouldn't have cared, but he did and it hurt so much.
The next person he came across was a priest, standing on a street corner, Bible clutched to his chest, muttering prayers furiously under his breath, "Our Father in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Your kingdom come, your will be done." Donnie stopped to observe the priest, who continued his furious praying, "Blessed are You, Lord, our God, King of the Universe, who sanctifies us with his commandments, and commands us to light the candles of Shabbat. Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one," The priest began to sweat.
Donnie arched a brow, "And why must we not be tempted, Father?"
The priest shook his head, he wanted nothing to do with the boy, "Lord Jesus, I confess that I have sinned against you. I call upon You, Jesus, and ask You to forgive me from all sin." The priest edged away from the boy, Bible shaking in his hands.
Donnie slid closer, "What sin have you committed, Father?"
The priest began to cry, shaking his head, not answering the boy, "I submit myself to You, Lord; spirit, soul and body."
Donnie suddenly felt a rush of anger and clutched his green hands into fists, "Where is Frank? Where is your God now, Father?" The boy growled, angrily, hatefully to the priest. He felt powerful, incredible, watching the priest cringe in fear, cower before him. He had never felt better.
"Faultless Lord, enduring death for me.. grant me the strength to also forgive others. Forgive my sins, my Lord, Jesus!" The priest sobbed.
Donnie, disgusted with the priest, snarled, green paint slowly dripping from his hands, "I will ask only once more, Father.. where is Frank?"
The priest hugged the Bible to his breast, sobbing louder than before, finally looked at the boy, "The end is nigh impossible to avoid, my son. He does not want to be found, let your heart rest a moment, and beg for forgiveness. My Lord is most forgiving, He will cleanse you of your sins."
Donnie no longer felt the pleasure in watching the priest tremble before him. He was now curious as to why Frank did not want to be found, "Will the Lord guide me to him, Father?"
The priest stopped shaking, skeptically gazing at the boy, "He will guide you, so long as you have Faith in Him."
For the first time, a smile graced Donnie's countenance and he sighed, almost dreamily, "Our savior.." The priest continued away from the boy, still showing signs of fear toward him. He flashed the priest a smile, asking, "Why do you ask for forgiveness, Father?"
The priest adopted a most serious scowl and began walking away from him, "I showed the foolish girl where she might find her deus ex machina. Her red hands.. Blasphemy!" The boy furrowed his brows, nodding. He would have begged for forgiveness too, "You might wish to seek Frank where no one would think to find a man." And then the priest was gone, and the boy felt a sense of loneliness that he could not understand, could not begin to fathom. He longed to be in the presence of the priest, or his girl, with her orbs shining with tears, or his father, or his sister, cold to the rest of the world, or his mother, whose face he could not remember.
Donnie continued to walk, as he had done before. And he walked, and walked, and walked until he came to a graveyard. The boy smiled grimly; of course. What better place to hide then amongst the dead? He made his way into the cemetery, strolling down tiers of tombstones.
The boy stopped in his tracks and gawked. There was Frank. He wore the rabbit suit, as he always had. Frank removed the headpiece. Underneath it, was the face of a handsome young man. His left eye did not exist, having imploded into the socket. Blood oozed from the wound.
Donnie wondered why he didn't want to be found. His eyes watered up, "My savior.."
Frank did not seem to notice the boy. But he must have, for his whisper in the quiet, solemn place was loud enough to stir any corpse. Yet, if he had, he did not bother to acknowledge his presence. The boy didn't mind, he was just so exhilirated to have finally found him at last. Before he could even open his mouth to verbally bombard him, Frank spoke, "Satisfied?"
Donnie just stared at him, "What happened to your eye?"
"I'm so sorry.."
"Frank? When's this gonna stop?"
"You should already know that.."
The boy dropped to his knees in front of Frank, who had not yet looked his way. Frank continued to stare down into the book in his lap, eyes scanning the pages with such speed, the boy could no longer bear to look. Without warning, Frank slammed the book shut, and it echoed throughout the cemetery. Donnie was greatly startled, but regained his composure and straightened up, ready to feed off of any lie Frank offered.
"I know why you've come looking for me." Donnie gave him a shy, expectant smile. Of course Frank knew. Frank always knew, "You are forgetting the miracle of storytelling. The deus ex machina. The god machine. That is how the rabbits were saved. That is how you saved the world.." Frank paused a moment, and the boy let everything sink in.
And Donnie realized Frank was absolutely right. He saved his mother. He saved Elizabeth, and Eddie, and Samantha, and Gretchen. He risked his life for them. He was their savior. Why did he come to find Frank then?
"You come to me to find out why."
Donnie rolled his eyes, "Why do I want to know why so badly, Frank?" Donnie couldn't keep the sarcasm from his voice.
And without disturbing the stillness of the cemetery, Frank silently stood before the boy, along with that fearless smirk that said he had foreseen everything, "A guilty conscience." Donnie didn't understand, he gazed up at Frank, questioningly, "I chose you, Donald Darko.. you had the power to build a time machine. And it led you to God's portal. You went back in time.. and you died. You will no longer feel regret.."
"Those were my memories.. the choices I made and the people I touched when I was alive.." Images of his family flashed through his head: Elizabeth, Rose.. Gretchen, Dr. Thurman.. Frank had strange ways of incorporating Donnie's life into this mess.
"The life that has been carved out from your subconscious is the only evidence you will be judged by.. and you must judge yourself, Donnie." The boy finally understood, and he nodded, feeling numbly satisfied, "I am your savior."
Frank pointed behind the boy. He turned and saw a hut and a river that had not been there before. Curious, Donnie wandered over to the hut without another word to Frank. The boy stopped and watched as a man walked out of the hut and down to the river. He filled up two buckets and carried them back into the hut. Donnie snuck a peak and saw him pouring the water onto the already muddy foundation of his home. The man exited the hut and repeated the process. The boy watched as he continued for another five minutes before speaking, "How many more times are you going to do that?"
"I'm already done." The man replied as he was heading back down to the river, filling his buckets up, and carrying them back to his hut, only to reemerge and continue the cycle. The boy watched the man in fascination.
Frank stepped up behind Donnie, "Now do you understand?" The boy stared at the man as he went about his business, doing the same thing each time. It took all of the boy's will power to tear his eyes away from the man. He looked to Frank, brows furrowed.
"But.. you destroyed the world."
Frank smiled, handing him an envelope. Donnie tore it open and pulled a letter out, immediately recognizing his own handwriting:
I have reached the end of your book and there are so many things that I need to ask you. Soemtimes, I'm afraid of what you might tell me. Sometimes, I'm afraid that you'll tell me this is not a work of fiction. I can only hope that the answers will come to me in my sleep. I hope that when the world comes to an end, I can breathe a sigh of relief, because there will be so much to look forward to.
"Your world has ended, Donnie. Sleeping child of the night. Follow me, out of sight." Donnie could not remember a time being more happier and at ease than he was now.
"Twenty-eight days, six hours, fourty-two minutes, twelve seconds.. We're almost home," Donnie smiled, "I think I've found my cellar door.." He understood everything and began laughing hysterically. Basked in Frank's calming presence, Donnie passed on, and he kept smiling.