Coming to Terms
Part Eight ~Fin~
Legals: Same
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When we came home that night, Lance was gone, a note tacked to the door saying that he was at the hospital. That's when Todd freaked. Pietro had been hell mortalized when we left for pizza and about three hours of driving, trying to find the perfect house to egg. Stupid and juvenile stuff that never made sense to me. But it made Todd happy. And he needed to be happy.
It took us an hour to get to the hospital. There had to be a million hospitals in Bayville that night. There were probably a few that we made a repeat trip too. Finally we found it, the hospital almost out of the city limits. There was a moment of silence in that car...A moment where we just stared.
He got out first, nodding for me to park. Todd didn't go in without me, his eyes large. Between us, not a word had passed yet...but this hospital was so far gone from the others, so pushed back and off from our house as they got while still in Bayville. When we told the lady at the counter who we were there for, she looked at us, eyes wide in sympathy, "I'm so, so sorry."
Todd ran, leaving me there. I saw Lance down the hallway, half the X-men behind him. I didn't recognize who was missing at the distance, not fully. I didn't care then, just watching our "fearless leader" walk down the hall. When his face came into focus, he was pale, almost grey-faced, eyes liquid.
"He...." I nodded once. There was another beat of silence. "They called." That's why the X-men were here. Again, I just nodded, waiting for something. "Where's Todd?"
From then on, it was a mess of apologies and pats on the back. Sympathy cards, flowers, checks to cover the expense. At one point, some curly haired girl came to the door, spoke with Lance, and they went into Pietro's room. I didn't listen in on that conversation. My job was watching Todd...not that he did anything.
I think he blamed himself just as much as Lance did. I don't know. He wouldn't talk about it. He wouldn't go near the room, refused to listen to Lance reading the letters that hadn't been destroyed. It was sickening to watch him. Todd at school was normal. He ate and he got in trouble, but at home...
Maybe we were all different. I don't remember Lance crying or commenting, just the line of anger on his jaw when he lifted the letter Pietro had half written to Magneto. And that letter gave us someone to blame. It was easy, simple, and guilt free. Not once did Pietro's father come to the door, write, call. Nothing was missing from the room.
He didn't even come to the funeral. Even the string of foster parents that had taken Pietro in and promptly pushed him out came to the funeral, their heads bowed over silent prayers for his immortal soul.
And I hate everyone of them.
I just lowered my head as the final words were murmured, swallowing back a rush of emotion and stand. He wasn't supposed to die...
For their sakes...I wish that it had been me. For all their sakes, I wish that cold body was mine. Pietro was funny and smart and...almost perfect. Gay didn't matter to anyone in the long run....
But now no one is laughing at his jokes. Instead of happiness and weird things, we have silence. Endless, mononous silence. The one thing Pietro hated above all else....
And this silence is all we have left of him.
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Okay, NOTES! I wasn't planning on this ending, and I hate this ending. I had a really cool plan worked out with my friend Sammy, but he and his husband had a fight and then he called and said that he'd be in touch when he found a place to stay out in Cali as his parents are stupid asses....and that was the last time I talked to him. On Wednesday, he slit his wrists at the hotel he was staying at...so...yeah. This ending is assinine, but after Pietro, Freddy was Sammy's favorite character (and kinda mine too, but his 'voice' screws me over), and if it weren't for him this wouldn't be a story. Thanks for reading this much....Ja, ciao, cya.