Title: Apologies
Author: Invision
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: Sequel to 'Final Thoughts'. Darien's thoughts about the events that took place.
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Invisible Man" or any of the characters. I'm not making any money off of this.
Notes: Thank you to my great beta reader liz_Z!
Apologies
I'm standing here at her grave. It's warm and sunny. The sun is shining right in my eyes, but I don't care. All I can think about is what I've done. I can't remember all of it, thank God. I only remember blood and a sick feeling of satisfaction. My dark side was glad that I had finally hurt someone that I cared about. Glad.
It's been three weeks since the... accident, but this is the first time I've come here. I didn't go to her funeral. I didn't think that I deserved to be there. I came here to apologize, but how can I? Saying I'm sorry doesn't exactly bring her back. I know if she was alive, she would tell me that it wasn't my fault, it was the gland. Yeah, I know it wasn't my fault, but that doesn't mean I can just wipe it away from my conscience.
Bobby told me that he wouldn't hold it against me. He told me that he didn't blame me for what happened. The only thing is that he couldn't look me in the eye when he told me that. I know he doesn't blame me for it, but I also know that whenever he looks at me, he'll still see the man who killed the woman he loved.
I knew he had a thing for Claire. He made it so obvious sometimes. I also have a feeling that the feeling was mutual. I keep thinking about the possibilities the future had held. What if they had started dating? What if by some chance they had even ended up getting married? We'll never know, now.
Alex has lost any trust she might have had in me. She refuses to work with me, and I can't say that I blame her. Who would want to work with a psychotic? Even Eberts acts different around me. When I walk into the Official's office, he'll smile and then look away quickly. He's afraid of me. I know he is.
The Official found some new woman to be my keeper. I can't stand her. She reminds me of Claire when we first met, except with her, I can tell that she just doesn't trust me and she never will. She doesn't talk to me like Claire did. She just does whatever she needs to do and shoves me back out into the hallway. She rearranged the lab, too. I hate going in there. Everytime I do, violent images flash through my mind. I can't really make them out, but I know what they're of anyway.
The fat man has been making me see this shrink for the past two weeks. He's supposed to help me 'get over the emotional stress that this unfortunate accident could cause' according to the Official. A shrink can't help me get over the guilt I feel, I don't care how many PhDs he has.
My eyes are brimming with tears. I have to say something. Something, so that hopefully I can feel some sort of closure before I use the gun I bought last week.
"Claire, I'm... I'm sorry," I finally stammer. I sound so pathetic. Like a small child apologizing to his mother for breaking her antique vase.
"I'm so sorry. I know that doesn't really make a difference, but you're all I've thought about for the past few weeks. I'm sorry I took your life away from you." The tears are flowing freely now. "Claire, if there's a heaven, I'm sure you're in it right now. I just hope that you can forgive me. I...I'm sorry." With that, I leave quickly. I get in my car and try to swipe the tears away from my eyes, but they just keep coming.
Why did it have to happen that way? Why couldn't someone have heard me and come to help Claire? Why couldn't someone have just put me out of my misery? I won't have to worry about hurting anyone anymore, though. I'm going to do what someone should have done a long time ago. I'm going to end this. I'm going to make sure I blow this gland into a thousand pieces. I'm sure they'll try to make another gland, but hopefully it won't have the madness. I wouldn't wish this Hell on anyone.
As I drive down the street towards my apartment, I can't help but wonder if it really was me killing her. The gland destroys all my inhibitions, releasing the darkest sides of my psyche, right? So was it really me? Was there a side of me that really wanted her dead, I just didn't realize it? The thought of it makes me hate myself even more.
I pull into the curb and get out of the car, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition. It's not like it matters now. I rush up the stairs and unlock my door hurriedly. I shut the door and walk over to my nightstand where the gun is sitting, waiting for me. I pick it up and cock the hammer. I glance over at the note beside my clock. It's for Bobby. I told him that I was sorry, just so sorry that this happened.
I just can't deal with the guilt and the fear of hurting someone else again.
I put the gun to my head and pull the trigger.
~The End~
Author: Invision
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Nope
Summary: Sequel to 'Final Thoughts'. Darien's thoughts about the events that took place.
Disclaimer: I don't own "The Invisible Man" or any of the characters. I'm not making any money off of this.
Notes: Thank you to my great beta reader liz_Z!
Apologies
I'm standing here at her grave. It's warm and sunny. The sun is shining right in my eyes, but I don't care. All I can think about is what I've done. I can't remember all of it, thank God. I only remember blood and a sick feeling of satisfaction. My dark side was glad that I had finally hurt someone that I cared about. Glad.
It's been three weeks since the... accident, but this is the first time I've come here. I didn't go to her funeral. I didn't think that I deserved to be there. I came here to apologize, but how can I? Saying I'm sorry doesn't exactly bring her back. I know if she was alive, she would tell me that it wasn't my fault, it was the gland. Yeah, I know it wasn't my fault, but that doesn't mean I can just wipe it away from my conscience.
Bobby told me that he wouldn't hold it against me. He told me that he didn't blame me for what happened. The only thing is that he couldn't look me in the eye when he told me that. I know he doesn't blame me for it, but I also know that whenever he looks at me, he'll still see the man who killed the woman he loved.
I knew he had a thing for Claire. He made it so obvious sometimes. I also have a feeling that the feeling was mutual. I keep thinking about the possibilities the future had held. What if they had started dating? What if by some chance they had even ended up getting married? We'll never know, now.
Alex has lost any trust she might have had in me. She refuses to work with me, and I can't say that I blame her. Who would want to work with a psychotic? Even Eberts acts different around me. When I walk into the Official's office, he'll smile and then look away quickly. He's afraid of me. I know he is.
The Official found some new woman to be my keeper. I can't stand her. She reminds me of Claire when we first met, except with her, I can tell that she just doesn't trust me and she never will. She doesn't talk to me like Claire did. She just does whatever she needs to do and shoves me back out into the hallway. She rearranged the lab, too. I hate going in there. Everytime I do, violent images flash through my mind. I can't really make them out, but I know what they're of anyway.
The fat man has been making me see this shrink for the past two weeks. He's supposed to help me 'get over the emotional stress that this unfortunate accident could cause' according to the Official. A shrink can't help me get over the guilt I feel, I don't care how many PhDs he has.
My eyes are brimming with tears. I have to say something. Something, so that hopefully I can feel some sort of closure before I use the gun I bought last week.
"Claire, I'm... I'm sorry," I finally stammer. I sound so pathetic. Like a small child apologizing to his mother for breaking her antique vase.
"I'm so sorry. I know that doesn't really make a difference, but you're all I've thought about for the past few weeks. I'm sorry I took your life away from you." The tears are flowing freely now. "Claire, if there's a heaven, I'm sure you're in it right now. I just hope that you can forgive me. I...I'm sorry." With that, I leave quickly. I get in my car and try to swipe the tears away from my eyes, but they just keep coming.
Why did it have to happen that way? Why couldn't someone have heard me and come to help Claire? Why couldn't someone have just put me out of my misery? I won't have to worry about hurting anyone anymore, though. I'm going to do what someone should have done a long time ago. I'm going to end this. I'm going to make sure I blow this gland into a thousand pieces. I'm sure they'll try to make another gland, but hopefully it won't have the madness. I wouldn't wish this Hell on anyone.
As I drive down the street towards my apartment, I can't help but wonder if it really was me killing her. The gland destroys all my inhibitions, releasing the darkest sides of my psyche, right? So was it really me? Was there a side of me that really wanted her dead, I just didn't realize it? The thought of it makes me hate myself even more.
I pull into the curb and get out of the car, not even bothering to take the keys out of the ignition. It's not like it matters now. I rush up the stairs and unlock my door hurriedly. I shut the door and walk over to my nightstand where the gun is sitting, waiting for me. I pick it up and cock the hammer. I glance over at the note beside my clock. It's for Bobby. I told him that I was sorry, just so sorry that this happened.
I just can't deal with the guilt and the fear of hurting someone else again.
I put the gun to my head and pull the trigger.
~The End~