Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own one any of the recognizable characters in this one shot.
There's this place in me where your fingerprints still rest, your kisses still linger, and your whispers softly echo. It's the place where a part of you will forever be a part of me. ~Gretchen Kemp~
The Ghost of You
A man so strong that he never shows pain cried as he fell to his knees on the hospital floor. A woman seated in a chair placed her hands over her eyes and let out a strangled cry. Another man tried to comfort her, many others watched in disbelief as the doctors faded from sight. No one dare comfort the crying man, no one dared to ease his pain. An innocent onlooker began to weep. She felt the pain of the man on his knees for she too had lost her husband some years before. The silent hospital was suddenly filled with a yell of a man who had lost everything. There was a girl who knelt beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder and also began to cry. No one spoke; they could not bear to talk about what had been learned.
All the man could think about was a beautiful woman who had carried his child. She was once so warm and soft but now she lay on a cold metal table, cold and unmoving, in the depths of hospital hell. Her face kept flashing through his mind, his heart shattered into pieces with every memory that he faced. He would give his own life it would bring back hers. A man so strong he never shows pain could not but help his tears. In a single day's time, his life had been torn apart at the seams. Everything he loved was gone and could never be replaced.
After what had felt like hours the man rose to his feet and swallowed the lump that had built in his throat. In a calm but sorrowed manner, he walked to the hospital entrance. Everyone watched, but only the girl who had knelt beside him followed as he climbed in his car, unwilling to be chauffeured home. In the solace of his truck, he let his tears cascade down his burning cheeks. A quick slip of the key ignition started the man's endeavor back to his home. A home he had once shared with the woman he had married two years ago. During his drive, he cannot help but stop at the beach. The first place he had ever taken notice of the woman who would become his world.
She was beautiful and had been sitting on the beach watching the sunset. He normally ran every morning but had waited until dusk on this particular day because of work. When he had reached where she was sitting, he could not help but notice the tears she had shed. Even with cheeks stained red and bloodshot eyes, she was ravishing. Blonde hair had been blowing lightly in the night breeze. Her pale skin almost shone when the moon rose, and hair sparkled a silvery white color that captivated him.
As the man shook his head to shake the thought of their first meeting from his mind, he dropped his head to the steering wheel and cried. He took no shame in his tears for they were deserved. The woman sitting beside him remained silent but wept along with the broken man. Her cheeks burned, and she knew her face was a horrible vision of agony. She did not care. All she wanted to do was comfort him and tell him that it would always be okay. She started to reach out, but her movements faltered and she returned her hands to her lap. Her eyes turned away from the strong, but weeping man and focused on the shoreline. As the silence continued to stretch, she remembered a bonfire that had been thrown in honor of this man and his lost loves engagement.
It was a happy night for all involved. The couple's friends had come to celebrate and cherish the couple and love the two shared. There were not many who had ever witnessed such an intense love shared by such a young couple. The woman had been glowing, like the same night she had met him, the mood did wonders in illuminating her beauty. He was just as handsome with his cropped black hair and russet skin that stretched perfectly over a beautifully sculpt body. Whenever someone gazed upon the pair, they were awestruck by the beauty and love that radiated from them.
The woman silently whispered to him. "It will be okay, everything is always okay."
She watched as he gripped the steering wheel tightly before releasing his grip. He wanted to scream and yell that nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay for him, not after losing his wife and unborn child, his mind screamed. Never had he imagined that something like this would happen to him. He felt pain flooding his entire being as he prayed to his gods that she had not suffered for long.
"Why, why did she have to leave me?" He cried, refocusing his eyes out to the distant shoreline. The water was calm, and he could not fathom an ounce of emotion to match how the ocean appeared.
After a while, the man dried his tears temporarily and finished the drive to the house he once shared with his wife. As he climbed from his truck, he hesitated. The sadness overcame him, but he began forward, mimicking the pace of a snail. The weeping woman followed in his wake, wondering if she should speak or remain silent. Silence seemed the best, she wasn't sure he would talk. Silence stretched as they both entered the once warm house. He was hit hard by the beautiful scent of lilac. Her skin was always so fragrant, and he enjoyed the warm undertone of vanilla that was his wife. What was left of his heart shattered and his pain was replaced with intense anger.
She had left him; she was never coming back to this house or to him. He was so angry because she promised she would never leave him, she would smile and tell him that she would always be here. He grabbed a picture from their wedding, tracing his fingers over her smiling face. Rage hit him; he threw the happy picture across the room. The woman sucked in a breath as the glass shattered and hit the ground. Somehow, she felt relieved that he was letting his emotion show. This man could not hold on to it, or he would soon become lost in such a dark and unforgiving place. The man continued to allow his anger to consume him. Pictures were flying, glass was breaking, and he was crying. She could not do anything to help him; he would not stop until he was ready. Her heart wept for the man because he was crumbling before her very eyes. With every picture he broke, he felt the sadness creeping back in to replace the anger that had roared its ugly head.
As his anger slowly subsided, the woman looked around. The house had been ransacked, it looked as if someone had broken in and been searching for something. Broken glass and dishes were scattered around, furniture was flipped over and, a table was broken. The man sat in the corner, clutching a picture to his chest. His right knuckle had begun to swell, and there were signs of bruising while the left one was bleeding. She wanted to grab him ice and bandages, but she just could not do so. Her tears had begun to dry because her eyes ached from crying so hard for this man, this beautifully devastated man. He started to rock, still clutching the picture and she let out a small sob as she continued to watch him break.
He felt the pain engulfing him as he clenched a wedding picture in his numb hands. He looked around and felt worse from the destruction he had caused in their home. She would not have become so violent, but she had never seemed to have an angry bone in her beautiful body. His woman would let things go almost instantly and would simply state that life was too short to let things upset her. It was one of the things he loved her for. She was so kind to everyone, no matter how they treated her.His heart ached. If his wife were here, she would start handing him things he could break. She would have done anything to ease his pain.. Hell, he knew she would have given him her best dishware if it would help him. He banged his head gently against the wall behind him before standing up.
The woman watched silently as he slowly walked into the disheveled kitchen and turned the faucet. She sighed as he washed the blood from all the scrapes and cuts caused by his anger. After a moment, he wrapped a towel around it. Her eyes followed him around as he slowly began to clean up the damage. She felt an ache in her body because she wanted to help him, but once again, she could not.
She wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, to feel his warm skin against hers. Her fingers wanted to run through his hair and tug gently at it. The woman wanted to assure him that everything would be okay. It sounded cliché, but it was the truth. She believed that time did not heal all wounds. Time simply lessened the pain from loss and allowed a person to put it behind them, without ever forgetting. She wanted him to know that he would be able to love again, that he would be whole someday. It was the only thing she was sure of. Her Sam was a strong man, and he never showed his pain, it was always locked tightly inside of him. Though, she was happy he had a chance to release all his bottled up emotion.
All that she wanted in this moment was to be real, to be seen, to be felt, and to hold her broken Sam. She moved forward to where he was crouched, picking up the glass. Tears cascaded down the woman's cheeks and hit the floor. She crouched before him, holding her hand to his cheek. She began to sob as she whispered out to him.
"I have loved you since the moment we met. You made my life so bright, and I was honored to become your wife Samuel Uley. You will be an amazing father someday. Another woman will be so happy because of you. It breaks my heart that I cannot stay with you, but it has to be this way. Please know, I will always be with you in your heart, even though I will not be there for you to touch."
Her hand pressed firmly against his cheek, and her tears began to fall rapidly as her form started to shimmer. Sam's head popped up and would have been looking right at her if she had a corporeal form. He looked around the room; almost sure he had felt her here. He shook it away as he continued to clean, whispering a faint I love you, but she had already gone.