"Without you, the earth turns
the sun burns, but I die
without you"
5,250,600 minutes. The only one that really mattered was 5,250,601.
Mimi hung her head lazily against the pillow, ignorant of the tubes in her nose. The IV dripped pointlessly into her veins, glowing blue against her pale skin. She breathed with no real interest, blissfully unaware about how limited they were. Sweat crawled through her lips the salty taste bitter on her dry tongue, though she was more cold then she'd ever been in her life.
A hand held her own, warm against her frigid palm, a tickle in her nerve endings, reminding her of what she had. What she was going to leave behind.
"Mimi..." a voice, heavy with tears, whispered, whipping the sweat from her brow. Gingerly, like they thought she would break.
She could only breath, short wisp of air that were there and gone too fast for her to appreciate them. It took a beat for the next to come.
She felt her throat hum, vibrating down her neck and into her chest, racking it like a hammer.
Five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred minutes, she sang to herself, unable to form words of her own. The rest came in bits, her thoughts, once so clear, now hazed into blurs, ...moments so dear...six hundred...year.
They weren't enough.
She was suddenly hyper-aware of all around her. The hopeless sniffles of Maureen, her head leaning against Joanne's waiting shoulder. Her shoulders racked with silent sobs, mouth covered with a crumbled, much abused tissue. Joanne stood straight, silent, mouth turned down toward the edges, brown eyes glistening with tears. She saw Collins, sitting far off in the corner. He'd lost one. Now another. The sad thought she'd evaded for so long suddenly hit her with enough force to drag the life from her right then. All that she cared about, all that she knew, would soon die out. Angel, her, Collins, Roger.
Roger.
She realized her hand was pressed firmly to his lips, his tears running down her fingernails. His shaggy, unkempt hair barely held to his head, sticking around like broken straw. She felt the sharp prick of his unshaven chin rub against her knuckles.
His shoulders trembled, and she feverently peeled her lids wider. His eyes stared back, shining like glass under the dim hospital light. Brimmed red, tears welling at the heavy, purple bags. She wanted to wipe them away, to kiss him and tell him to stop worrying about her. But she couldn't. The edges faded into grey, then black, blending in with the already bleak colors of her friends early grief. She curled her fingers numbly into an almost-fist, settling them against Roger's chin. His lips, she saw, were pressed into a thin, pursed line.
Into his eyes, she didn't see fear, or even grief. She saw a wary sadness that made her heart clench until it cracked. Maybe worried, that this wouldn't be the last to go. That, eventually, everyone he cared for would end up in the same bed, and he'd watch each and everyone die, like this. And, with each one lost, he lost part of himself with it. And it scared him.
The black closed in until only they existed, staring into each other with an intense longing. Longing for the other to stay, to never leave.
She imagined what Angel had felt, sitting in Collins lap, feeling herself slip away. No control over the sudden gust of light that swept her away, sparing you no last glance of what was being left behind, no last goodbyes. There one moment, gone the next. Being pushed forward dragged almost, through the blinding whiteness. Mimi saw her, waving eagerly, if mournfully, at her, beckoning for her to join her. Not like last time, when she had told her to go back, that it wasn't time. She wanted to scream at Angel, to tell her how stupid it was, to tell her how much time she had left.
A clock ticked somewhere, it's hand jerking forward. To number five hundred, twenty five thousand, six hundred and one. Her time was up.
She fought against the current, begging the unforgiving light to let her back, if only for a moment. One moment to tell him what he meant to her, how much she loved him.
She heard a flat line, and soft mummer of "I love you." and it was gone, and she knew it wouldn't come back. Everything was black once more, and she let it take her with open arms.
A/N I'm really rushing with alot of my stories lately. And this is like, the tenth charactor death fic I've done in three weeks...