Dr. Nicholas Rush (100 Drabbles) Drabble #12- "Grey"
Time was slowly slipping by as he stood there. The day had faded into evening; the warm air had started to turn bitterly cold. None of it mattered. He couldn't feel the cold wind brush strands of his hair back, or could recollect the time of day. His eyes were glassy with tears that wanted to fall. He couldn't cry anymore. Despair and anguish all burned deep down within the depths of his heart. He couldn't even feel that anymore. He knew he was breathing, but he felt numb. He wished it had been him, and not her. Why her? He would have gladly taken her place. He simply didn't know how to be without her. And yet, she was gone.
Before him, was the pile of freshly dug dirt, a clear indication that someone had been buried. A tombstone would follow later, but would anyone truly know or think of her, the way he had? The world didn't care that a part of himself died along with her. He had the urge to suddenly get on his knees, and start digging her back up. It all had to be some horrible nightmare. She had never gotten sick. She was still asleep beside him, her arm curled around his thin waist. He'd awake to that kind face, that angelic smile, those kind and loving eyes that meant everything to him. How was he going to continue on without her? Did he even want to? Even now, he was the only one left standing, simply staring at the grave. The others had already been long gone, leaving him to wallow in his own sadness and guilt. He should have done more. He probably could have found some way to help her. Instead, they simply accepted that she was sick, and that there was nothing he could do.
"Gloria… what am I-"
He couldn't finish, crumbling down onto his hands and knees. Tears stung at his eyes, and they fell down his cheeks and onto the ground below him. He sobbed to himself for a short while, before looking up again. Suddenly, anger rose up from his belly, and he could feel his blood boiling. He was mad at everyone, everything, at the world, and mostly at himself. He had let the only person he had ever loved die. He may have well killed her. He somehow managed back onto his feet, and ran. He continued to run for what seemed like hours, what had appeared to be miles. But he had only managed to make it back into the parking lot; a short distance away from the graveyard.
The sound of his feet and fists connecting with the first car he had come upon could be heard, and reverberated from all around him, and hurt his ears. He didn't care. He continued to ram his fists into the hard metal, into the glass. After some time, it broke into tiny fragments that flew all over. His hand was heavily bleeding, having suffered a bad cut from one of the pieces of glass that had held together. He didn't care. His feet were starting to ache as he continued to give everything he could, just letting his anger out on the car. Nothing mattered. He wondered, if he did himself in, would he finally be released from all this pain and suffering, and he'd find his salvation once again, with Gloria. It would be easy. There were plenty of options, and no one would give a damn.
He had been at it for seven minutes, before he crumbled to his knees again, shivering from the abuse he had wretched upon his body. His hands rose to his face again, as another sob broke the silence. A breeze brushed past his face, against his cheek and through his hair, and his face rose to look high into the Heavens. Was she watching him? Was she preparing herself to accept him back into her arms? Would she accept him, after that fact that he would kill himself? He just simply didn't care anymore. God, he missed her. He needed her. He couldn't do this, wouldn't do this. He couldn't move on; he just had to be with her.
Footsteps. He suddenly heard the sound of light footsteps coming towards him from behind. They sounded almost hesitant, nervously, as the sound got closer and closer. He dared a look back, but he simply couldn't get his brain to function the command in his head. He got absorbed into his pain for a brief moment, forgetting that someone was actually still here, and had approached him. When he focused his attention to the present once again, he was shocked to have seen sympathetic, kind, and tear laced Grey eyes. He knew those eyes well. He had always admired the fact that these eyes were so expressive in their emotions, just like Gloria's eyes had been. A faint smile wanted to come onto his lips at that memory. He could always read her emotions by simply losing himself in her eyes. Whether she was concerned about his working late, how they lit up with joy whenever they would kiss. How heavy and passionate they would become when they would share intimate moments that always ended up in mind exploding ecstasy. Pain spiked up within his soul again, as her eyes would simply be that from now on: a memory.
He looked into those Grey eyes again, they didn't dare advert their attention away from him. He then felt the soft touch of a hand, rubbing along his shoulder. As if it could soothe and ease some of the pain he was feeling within his being. He saw a sweet face scrunch up, lip trembling some as it dared to start crying anew. He gave a long frown, not realizing tears were rolling down his face again, as he looked down at his bleeding hand.
"Lily, what are you still doing here?"
"I…couldn't leave you behind. I'm so sorry, Dr. Rush. The few times we got to talk to her in class, I really did admire her…"
Before he could even protest, she had seen the blood and gasped. He felt her take the handkerchief she had used to dry her own tears, and attempted to wrap it tight and tie it around the wound. He wanted to lash out, to scream at her for being so stupid. To leave him be to bleed to death. This wasn't right, this wasn't fair. His Gloria, was gone. Snatched away, ripped apart from him. As she fussed over him some more, he did push her rather roughly, hearing her grunt out as she landed a few feet away from him. He felt the tiniest bit of guilt. She was just trying to help. Hell, he had to admit, Lily was one of his favorite students. But anger was boiling again, and he stood, shakily on his legs. His breath became labored, and he raised his clenched hand, as if he was going to punch something or someone. She looked up at him, her expressive eyes telling him she was ready to take the abuse; almost like she had been expecting it to come this whole time. Why would she take abuse, just on his account? It was almost something, he was certain, Gloria would have done for him. He felt bile rise in his throat, swallowing it back, as his demeanor softened. Dr. Nicholas Rush never liked to show defeat, but this time, he simply crumbled.
"Lily…she's gone! What am I supposed to do?! I can't…I can't…"
She had gotten up quickly and caught him before he could collapse. He sobbed, grasping her shoulders, a hand clenching her blond hair. Head buried deep into the crook of her neck as he let his emotions free. And she just simply held him, rocking them back and forth gently, as she cried along with him. In the back of his mind, although he was still grieving, her embrace gave him a silent reminder.
At least, one other person, cared.