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Chris Jericho could feel his eyelids dropping. It was a combination of many things that were finally taking their toll on him. He hadn't slept well recently. He was worried about Christian. He was stressed out about the whole situation in general. He debated turning his car back on so he could at least have the radio to distract him from his own depressing thoughts, but he didn't want to alert Christian to his presence. He looked out the window again and saw Christian still about a hundred yards away, standing on his brother's fresh grave.
Yes, on.
Chris knew that Christian wasn't taking the news well. The death had been a week and a half ago, Edge had been in a freak car accident. Some kids had blown a stop light and slammed into his car, killing him on impact. Sure, maybe Edge wasn't Chris's favorite person in the world, but he didn't want that to happen to him. He didn't want that to happen to anyone. Chris had dealt with the new as well as could be expected, but the real trouble started when Chris was chosen to be the one to tell Edge's brother. Christian yelled at Chris for pulling a stunt like that, but Chris could see it in his eyes that he knew it was true. Then he punched him, shoved him outside, and slammed the door. That was the last anyone had heard from Christian since the accident. He refused to answer his door or the phone.
Chris had taken it upon himself to watch Christian, to make sure he was ok. The job had been relatively easy, as their houses were adjacent. Periodically throughout the day, Chris would go out to his back yard and look into Christian's back patio doors. And he was always just sitting there, on the living room floor. He wasn't looking at anything. He wasn't listening to anything. Just sitting there. It was when he moved that worried Chris. Sometimes he would come back to the same spot with food or drink that he wouldn't eat more than a bite of. Sometimes he would shower, coming back to the spot in a new outfit and with wet hair. He wasn't sleeping well, either, Chris had noted. Sometimes he would pace from midnight until five in the morning. Maybe he'd sleep a couple hours, not nearly enough to function. Not that Christian was doing much functioning recently. Just sitting.
Until today.
Christian got up today. It hadn't startled Chris right away, but when saw Christian return, he noticed that he had finally shaved, and was actually wearing a slightly nicer outfit than usual. Chris had been watching carefully, and was surprised when Christian crossed right through his living room and went outside. He had jumped up to go talk to him, but before he got out of his own yard, he heard a car start and watched Christian pull away. Chris had a bad feeling, so he got in his car and followed Christian.
And now here he was. At the cemetary. Chris had wondered momentarily how Christian had known which cemetary Edge was at, considering he hadn't gone to the wake, funeral, or burial. It didn't matter. Here he was. Standing on his brothers's grave. Sometimes kneeling. Yelling, waving his fists at the sky, sometimes pounding on the ground. Chris wasn't sure what he was doing, but he figured he was finally dealing in his own way. When he was ready to leave, Chris would be right here, ready to talk to him. And so he waited.
Christian was kneeling right now, digging around in his pocket. His hand came out with a silver flash that woke Chris up. He jumped up and was out of his car at a sprint before he even knew it. If that was what he thought it was...
"Christian!" he screamed as he ran over. Yes, that was most definitely what he thought it was. Christian took no notice of Chris, he just sat still for a second, then fell over.
Chris came to a sudden stop, sliding to his knees next to Christian. Chris could not believe the amount of blood. He grabbed Christian's arm, squeezing it desperately, trying to think of something to make a tourniquet with. "Christ, Christian, what the hell are you doing?"
Christian didn't respond. Chris took of his shirt and tried to tie it around his Christian's arm, even though somewhere inside he knew it was too late. He watched Christian as he worked. His eyes were glazed over and his mouth was moving weakly as if he was trying to say something, but Chris couldn't hear anything. After the injured arm was tied as securely as Chris thought he could do it, he let Christian lay back, still squeezing the arm, and fumbled in his pocket for a cell phone and dialed 911 as well as he could with one hand. He hit send and leaned over, trying to hear what Christian was whispering.
"I'm sorry, Edge, so sorry..."
Chris sighed, feeling tears rush to his eyes. "You better quit apologizing to him and start apologizing to me, you son of a bitch!"
Before the call went through, the shaking rise and fall of Christian's chest stopped and Chris let the phone drop out of his hand, crying now. "Goddammit, Christian, you son of a bitch! What'd you do that for? Huh!? Why the fuck did you do that?!"
Chris pounded his fist on Christian's chest, then fell forward, dropping his face on his knees. He didn't hear the tinny voice coming from his cell phone a couple of feet away as it asked if he had an emergency. He remained like that for a couple of minutes before he finally moved, crying silently.
When he was composed enough to think again, he sat back up, oblivious to the blood and dirt that covered him. He didn't care. He looked up to Christian's face and closed his eyes, not wanting to look into those lifeless grey eyes ever again. He brushed some strands of hair out of Christian's face that must have fallen loose in his agitated state before Chris had come over here. Heaving another deep sigh, Chris finally heard a quiet, "Hello?"
He looked down to the cell phone next to him and picked it up finally.
"Hello?" he asked back, finally, very subdued.
"This is 911, do you have an emergency?"
Chris swallowed, sadly. "No, not anymore."
"I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're..."
Chris was distracted from the phone call by a large blossom covered with tiny purple flowers. He didn't know much about flowers, but he picked it up and examined it shortly. He noticed the sweet smell immediately and set it back down on the grave, next to Christian. Christian must have brought it for Edge, he figured. Christian had always liked flowers.