Love Me in Death
Disclaimer: Sue me not. I own nothing more than Bleach merchandise and some issues of Newtype-USA with Bleach pictures in them.
AN: The basis for this fic is not fictional. I saw some parallels between my relationship with a very dear and recently-departed best friend and that of three possible couples in the series, with some huge differences, of course. This was originally going to be a Naruto fanfiction, but I decided to make this a Bleach fic because I couldn't really see Naruto getting knocked down by a mysterious illness. I leave it up to you, my reader, to decide which couple you think this is about.
To warn you, if you have recently lost a friend, a family member, a pet, or a loved teacher, I do not recommend reading this, especially if the circumstances of that loved one's passing are similar to the circumstances presented here in this writing.
Props to my wonderful beta, penquinsoul.
Before we start, I'd like to dedicate this to my friend Parker, who was there when others were not. Rest in peace.
He'd always been there. Since their first meeting, she couldn't recall a time when he hadn't been around. They might not have been the greatest of friends at times, though that hardly mattered in the end.
They were always together. Sometimes, if she wasn't careful to explain his place in her life, others would assume he was her lover. On his side of the spectrum, it was obvious to everyone – everyone except her, that is – that she alone was the very center of his universe. Everything he did was for her. To make the pain go away, to hold her in his arms, to see her smile again, he would circle the moon as many times as she wanted.
Despite his efforts, she never really noticed him. The closest they ever came was her little off-handed comments that he'd make a wonderful boyfriend and/or husband. He honestly didn't know which was worse, the constant knowing that she'd never notice him, or those terribly moments when she'd say, "You'll make someone happy someday." If only she knew.
Still, he remained at her side, holding onto her fragile, yet amazingly strong heart. He was always the one she ran to when none of her other friends could help her. With a morbid sense of satisfaction, he realized that this made other men jealous. With an almost evil satisfaction, he came to understand that she, too, became jealous if he spent time with other women or even his own friends.
That couldn't make up for all the times she'd caused him to be jealous without her knowing what she was doing.
Though her heart fully belonged to him (whether she knew it or not), she insisted on spending time with that other guy, whichever man it happened to be at the time. He burned with a jealousy that seemed to have been mixed with an intoxicating form of anger. The mere mention of a name, friend or crush, made him clench his fists tightly as he fixed his jaw to keep from making biting comments to her. And if she dared compare him to another man, he insisted as calmly as possible that he was better than Whats-His-Name-fukutaichou or that unseated guy from whatever squad.
He was better than all of them.
It hurt him that she seemed to notice the changes and was worried yet not so much to insist that he go to the 4th Squad for treatment. Until he started limping for no reason, he didn't even think something was wrong. He pained to see her worry about him, and again to be the cause of her fears when he reacted poorly to the medicine. He hated that he was the reason she cried at night after he refused to eat or drink, after he threw up what she managed to get into his stomach. They both knew he couldn't help it. They both knew that nothing could be done to help him no matter how hard she tried to find a cure. Such knowledge didn't make it hurt any less. So she clung to what time they'd had together, and to whatever time they had left.
But her tears were finally for him, if for the wrong reasons. It had taken his mysterious illness, and, finally, his premature death just a month later, to wake her up to how badly she really needed him. She had taken him for granted, had counted on him always being there. She loved him, and not only as a friend or even a brother. To realize such things then made it even harder to accept his death. It was a sickening way to learn of one's true feelings, but she could not challenge fate.
He was cremated. She kept his ashes in her flat, never to part with him for eternity, for it was her heart that he took with him to the other side.
owari
Comments and crits welcomed, flames will be ignored.