Dizzy Up the Girl

Track XXVI
Amigone

The doctor pronounced Mathilde Thomassen legally dead shortly after seven that morning.

Birgitta and Lukas sat in the kitchen, watching the men carry the body out on a stretcher, covered by only a thin, white sheet. "She went peacefully," Lukas mumbled into his coffee cup once they had left. "That's all I could've hoped for."

Birgitta reached over and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. In a moment of motherly instinct, she began to pat him, speaking comforting words and telling him how she wouldn't want them to mourn over her too much. Yet, she herself could not stop the tears from flowing. No matter what she told him, she couldn't apply it to herself.

"I assume you had funeral arrangements?" he asked, rubbing his temples and setting the mug down. She nodded, standing up and walking over to a drawer, removing a small little planner with Mathilde's name neatly printed on it. "I'll cover all the costs. Don't worry," he stood up and took the small notebook from her hands.

"You don't have to…"

"I want to."

She smiled and embraced him. "Thank you," she breathed, burying her face into his shoulder. "Thank you for everything. You're always welcomed in this family. You're a part of this family. Don't ever forget that."

He wrapped his arms around her and bit his lip to stop the quivering. He nodded, listening to the stifled sobs that the usually composed Swede let out.

"Peter, what are you doing out here by yourself?"

Tino rushed down the sidewalk and grabbed the young boy, pulling him underneath his umbrella. "Without a proper coat or jacket or umbrella or anything! Where's Birgitta?" Indigo eyes scanned the sea blue eyed boy's face.

"She's at home… being stupid…" The Finn frowned, and the young boy shook him from his grasp. "I wanna be alone, Tino."

"What's wrong?" he inquired, recapturing the small wrists in his hand. "Did something happen?" Peter nodded, his blond hair drenched and sticking to his forehead. Tino frowned, the expression on the young boy hard to read. "What happened?"

"Mathilde died…"

Tino knelt down, covering Peter with the umbrella. His thick eyebrows knitted together. "I'm so sorry, Skip." He muttered this in a whisper, reaching out with his free hand to gently touch his shoulder. "When?" Peter shrugged.

"They pronounced her dead this morning, but Lukas was pretty sure she died in her sleep last night."

The Finn sighed, squeezing the younger's shoulder. "At least she went peacefully," he mused. "She had suffered so long… and she died in one of the best ways possible." The Brit frowned, shaking his head. "What's the matter, Peter?"

"Mama tried to play it off like everything was fine." He raised his underdeveloped voice slightly, then backed off. "I'm not a little kid. I know not everything is fine. I'm afraid. I'm afraid Mama's gonna get sick and leave me now… the say way Mathilde did."

Tino was having a hard time telling if Peter was crying or if it was the water dripping from his bangs. "Your mother is healthy," he quietly whispered, brushing the damp pieces of hair from his face, confirming the idea that Peter was, in fact, crying. "She's not going to die. Mathilde lived her life to the fullest in the short amount of time she had to do so… she had a good job, met amazing people… she even fell in love and got married."

He forced the preteen to look at him, before hissing. "And Mathilde will never leave you, Skip. Ever. Do you understand? She's… not here anymore, but she'll never leave your memory or your heart or your soul."

The young boy pondered, before asking the light haired man, "Do you believe in life after death? Like, in heaven and stuff?"

Tino froze. He had never given the idea much thought, before nodding. "I suppose. I mean… someone's gotta watch out for you and Birgitta, right?" he shrugged, standing up, but still keeping the rain shield over their heads.

"We have you."

He laughed. "Your aunt," he began, "would never in a million years trust anyone with you two. I can try, but Mathilde would probably make me take all these tests to see if I'm capable… I'm just sorry I didn't have the time to make it up to her and earn her trust." Peter slipped his hand into Tino's larger one, nodding. "Hopefully, I can make up for it in time."

The young boy smiled, nodding. "I think you can."

Birgitta had been worried sick when she realized, shortly after Lukas' departure, that her son had disappeared without a word. She was frantically calling around all morning, and was about to call the cops when she received a call from the Finn, telling her he had Peter with him and he was bringing him home.

When the two males arrived, Birgitta yanked Peter from Tino's grasps and collapsed into the floor, crying new tears to swell up her eyes more. "You scared me! I didn't know where you were! Why didn't you tell me where you were going? Where did you go?"

"I found him downtown." Tino knelt down next to the small family, gently peeling the Swede's fingers from Peter's small shoulders. Birgitta groaned and was about to reach forward and shake the growing child, but Tino kept a hold of her wrists, pulling her to her feet.

"I'm so sorry about Mathilde…"

Birgitta yanked her hands away, shaking her head. "There's nothing to be sorry about," she hissed. "Everything's fine. I knew this was coming. Nothing left to do but…" Her voice drifted off and the young Brit groaned, stomping his foot and pointing an accusing finger at the Swede.

"That's just it!" he screamed. "Everything is not fine!"

"Peter, your voice…"

"I don't care!"

Tino stepped behind him, placing his hands gently on his shoulders and giving them a light squeeze. "Calm down, Skip. Your mother is trying to be strong for you…" The blue eyed preteen groaned and shut his mouth before another rant flew out.

Birgitta's frowned deepened, her puffy, red eyes streaming more tears. "I… I'm so sorry, baby…"

"Gitta," Tino softly spoke up. "You don't have to keep this up anymore…" She didn't budge. "You can break down once in a while too. You don't have to always be strong."

She stepped forward and embraced the Finn, burying her face in his shoulders. Peter stood there, sandwiched between the two adults and sighed. "I'm so sorry… I thought…" Tino placed his hands gently on her hips, watching her pull away. Her lips quivered and she wiped her eyes.

"It's okay mommy…" Peter embraced her waist, leaning his head against her stomach. "I love you. I know you were just trying to protect me – but Mathilde would want to do that herself. If you're worrying about me, who's going to protect you?"

Tino's indigo eyed locked with her sky blue ones. "I think I know who would…"

Emil and Lukas sat at their counter, sipping coffee in silence. Emil had heard the news from his half-brother earlier that day, and decided not to approach the topic unless Lukas himself started the conversation. "I feel like…" Lukas hesitated.

Emil quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing.

"I feel like she's not even gone."

"Ah."

Emil did not force him to elaborate on this emotion or thought or whatever it was. Lukas yawned, eyeing the young man in curiosity. "You're awfully quiet."

"I want you to deal with this in your own way," Emil waved his hand. "My input shouldn't be remotely valuable. She was your wife, not mine. However you deal with this is how you deal with it. I'm just here to be the shoulder to cry on in the meantime."

The Norwegian nodded. "Ah." He gripped his mug, shaking his head. "I wish there was something I could've done. I wish I had met her earlier… maybe I could've helped save her. God, I wish…"

"Were you happy with the time you spent together, though?"

Lukas' eyes sparkled briefly. "Of course," he mumbled. "I wouldn't change it for the world. I can never see myself with anyone else anymore." The Icelander nodded.

"There you go." Emil smiled, sliding off the stool and walking over to the sink, dumping his coffee out and placing his cup into it. "You're in love."

The light haired blond eyed the silver haired male, an unreadable look crossing his face for a brief moment. "I know that. Anyway, how would you know?" he crossed his arms. Emil's violet eyes sparkled, and his mouth became like cotton.

"I may be young," he managed to get out before swallowing. "But I know the feeling. Every moment, good or bad, with that special someone is precious. You'd never exchange that time for anything else or anything else."

Lukas frowned, his cobalt eyes scanning over his brother. "You're sure you found it with him?"

Emil didn't miss a beat. "I know I'm sure."

She was to be cremated in three days time. They had sent in her obituary, informed various friends she'd want present, and then Lukas helped organize a small service before the cremation, kind of like a viewing or something of the nature.

The Swede and Norwegian busied themselves with preparations. When Birgitta got stressed, Peter would often force her to step away from whatever it was and either make her food or send her to bed. Birgitta didn't argue, and allowed the down time to recharge her battery, so to speak.

Lukas didn't have the nagging son (or on occasions, Tino) to help him relax as much. Sure, Emil provided some sort of distraction for a few moments, but then the Icelander would stalk off and Lukas would realize he was right back to whatever had stressed him out.

Lukas had received condolences from various people. He thanked them all the same and went on his merry way. "Is it wrong," he muttered to himself. "To miss someone so much you cannot cry over them?"

He was sitting alone in his work space; a pen lingering above paper, his body slumped over in his chair. He had gotten no sleep since her death, and now he was starting to feel the effects. "I'm going to miss you, Mathilde."

His hand began to move freely across the paper, his fine cursive looping and connecting to words and letters as the blank page in front of him slowly became filled with words.

"I love you." He moved the pen away and set it down, slowly picking it up and examining what he had written down. "And I always will."

He gently laid the paper down onto the desk and grabbed one of the notebooks, scribbling down words before him.

"Are you alive?
Amigone? Miracles gone wrong.
Is it too late to call and tell you to be strong?
Are you alive?
Amigone? (Miracles gone wrong).
Was the poison in our blood there all along?
Amigone?"

Something to lead us into the last two chapters. OTL.

Adios~!
Darlene :)