Come Back to Me
A/N: This is very different than anything I have ever written before and most of this story is really sad, so don't read this unless you're prepared to be depressed because I was crying when I wrote it.
Chapter 1 "Blood Red Emotions Turn Into Something More"
My life changed forever the day I put that knife to my wrist, it was just something we did sometimes. No one knew. It was our secret; it didn't mean anything really, at least not to me. I maybe it did, maybe, looking back now I'm just simplifying it. Because I have too, because there's just nothing else to do.
I am responsible for a death. It wasn't my hand on the knife pressing into his writs, no, but it's still my fault, because I knew. Because I did nothing. I knew how unhappy he was, how his father would hit his mother and he'd spend the night at my house when it got particularly bad. We'd sit cross-legged on my bathroom floor with the door locked and cut our wrists while talking about how shit our lives are. Were. Now his is only a were. How could I have let this happen? To him, to me.
I knew how unhappy he was, we'd make suicide pacts all the time. We planned our deaths, together, we always did it together in our plans, it was tragic and twisted and lovely. But they were just words, I wasn't really serious, I thought he wasn't either. It was just something we talked about, nothing more. It was our weapon against the world, a world that we pretended to be somebody else in. A world that would nether accept or understand us if we were real. But our weapon aghast the world turned into a weapon against us, him, a fatal one.
I wish he had taken me with him, damnit, why didn't he ask me, tell me, make me understand and do it with him? But I know why, he didn't ask me because he knew I wouldn't, for all of our talks, I wouldn't really. I guess not even I understood him, not really. But I do understand one thing, now more than ever before: He was my reason for living, and now he's gone.
I thought all of this as the principal came on the loudspeaker at school and told us he was found dead, a 'talented and promising 12th grade football star' is what the newspaper called him the next day, with a huge color picture of him making the winning touchdown at our Homecoming game earlier this year next to the article about how he took his life. I threw up when I saw the picture; everyone thinks they know him, but that wasn't him, not really.
When I remember him I think of him, sitting in his blue and green plaid pajama pants and white shirt on my bathroom floor next to me, the small pocket knife in his hand and as he pressed it against his wrist, a slight grin on his lips, the glint of excitement mixed with pain in this eyes,-and love, when he looked at me, his crimson blood spilling onto pristine white tile that covers my bathroom floor. He would tell me he loved me then. The moon light from my open window would shine across his face, making him looks like an angel already. My tragic angel. Then he'd kiss me. He'd kiss my wrists where I slit them and I'd taste my blood mixed with his on his lips, it was metallic but sweet. Our blood kiss, he called it. He told me that it bound us together forever, that it made us soul mates, and I believed him. But he's gone now, forever. Oh God, bring my Andy back to me.
Chapter 2 "Pretend to be Strong"
Everyone turned to look at me when it was announced that Andy died. I don't know what they were expecting me to do. Cry? Scream? I guess it's not every day the most popular girl in school's boyfriend kills himself. But I didn't do anything. I just sat there, numb. I still am, numb, I mean. I don't think it will ever go away. In a way I hope it doesn't, I want to remember it, remember him. How we were and how we'll never be again. I didn't cry that day, I didn't know why. I cried the next day and the day after, and now and forever.
Tears just flow from my eyes, it's not even crying anymore, it's just a silent acceptance, it's my love for Andy, it's everything and nothing at the same time. It's guilt and sadness and hate. It's the best part of me that I'll never get back. He was the best part of me and I'll never get him back. I was dead inside before I met him, and I'm dead now. He was my life, my love, my soul. Now everything's just grey. There is no life without Andy. I didn't even know it was possible for someone to cry this much, I thought there must be an end to my tears but they don't stop, they never will. I think I've forgotten how to stop crying.
No one talks to me anymore. It doesn't matter anyway, I don't notice. I don't notice anything out side my pain anymore. I live inside of it, consumed by it. I miss him so much that sometimes it physically hurts. My entire body aches as I wish to be in his arms. It hurts to move, to think, to breathe. I just want it to end. I used to pretend to be strong, now I don't, I don't care, I'm not strong or weak, I just am.
Chapter 3 "One Decision Wastes a Lifetime"
I know what I need to do. I need to be with him again, I need to feel something other than the aching numb of pain. I want to, need to feel anything again. Once I'm with my tragic angel I can be strong again, be whole. Just one cut, that's all it takes, that's all it took Andy, one cut on each wrist to end his life and mine. I just want to be with him again.
The knife feels light in my hand, weightless almost. I keep it under my mattress so no one would find it. There's still blood on it from the last time; the last time with him. I walk into my bathroom, knife in hand. I slit my wrist deeply and yet I feel nothing. Still nothing, no matter what I do, I can never feel anything anymore. I lift the knife again to cut the other wrist my hand starts to shake. I'm losing so much blood, it's flowing out of me so quickly, a puddle is already forming on the tile and I start to feel dizzy. The room is spinning. "I love you Andy" I whisper before my head hits the floor.
Chapter 4 "My Tragic Angel Saves Me"
I open my eyes and everything's too bright, much too bright for me to still be in my bathroom. I look around and realize that I'm sitting on a swing; Andy's and mines, where we would always go to talk. But how can I be here? What happened to me? And then I see him and my thoughts stop, my world stops. Andy looks just as I remember him; the glint of wonder in his eyes, the pale rose pink of his lips. He's walking toward me and I instinctually slide over so there's enough room on the swing for both of us. He sits and kisses me and my brain jump starts again and all the questions return.
"You're dead" I say, it's more of a statement then a question. "So are you" Andy answers softly. "I'm…..dead?" I ask and then I remember, the knife, all the blood, rushing out quickly, too quickly. "I'm dead because of you" I told him, there was no anger in my voice as I said these words because I didn't feel any, it was just a fact. I was dead because of him. "I know" Andy answered "But you'll live because of me too." I looked at him with questioning eyes and he continued, "It's not your time Prue, I'm sending you back, you're supposed to live, I wasn't"
Terror suddenly fills me. No! He can't make me go back, I'm finally with him, I can't live without him. A single tear slides down my cheek as I look him, trying to understand what he's telling me. I brush the tear off my cheek and look at it in wonder "I didn't think people cried in heaven" I said in awe as my tear glitters like a diamond in the soft blue-white light that surrounds us, envelopes us. "Angels don't" Andy answered "I don't, not anymore, I'm happy here-it's where I belong. See? This was my destiny, not yours. It's time for you to go back now."
"Andy, my destiny is with you!" I exclaim desperate to make him understand. "No, it's not" Andy says quietly and a brief sadness crosses his face for the first time, "I thought it was, but I was wrong, we both were. Your destiny is to live, to be on earth. You will find someone else, the person you are meant to be with, you'll have two children with him and you'll be happy, happier than I could have ever made you. That is your destiny, and it always has been. I didn't know it then, but I do now. Prue, you're 17, don't throw your life away for me. I'll always be watching over you" Andy said, tilting his head until our lips met. "I love you" I whispered against his lips and closed my eyes letting my self be enveloped by the kiss.
Chapter 5 "Life"
The next thing I knew I was in an ambulance, with paramedics all around me. "She's flat lined" one of them called and I slowly opened my eyes "She's back" another replied, putting an oxygen mask over my face. No, this isn't right; he shouldn't have brought me back. I don't want to be alive. "Andy…Andy" I whispered, the oxygen from the mask cutting off my words and almost choking me. Then we reached the hospital and I remember seeing Andy's reflection in one of the metal ambulance doors, it was only there for a second, then it disappeared, that the last thing I remember before I blacked out.
It wasn't until a week later that I was well enough to go home. My wrists still had thick gauzy bandages over then, but the doctors told me I was recovering well, I guess they meant physically, after seeing Andy and having him taken from me again, I felt more alone then ever. And I was alone I didn't tell Grams or my sisters why I tried to kill myself and they didn't ask me. I just kept to myself, thought about what Andy had told me about my destiny and prayed to God he was right, that I would be happy eventually. Little did I know it would happen sooner that I thought.
As I was walking out of the hospital that day I was staring at the bandages on my wrists, hating them, hating me. When I bumped into someone I felt a pair of strong arms grab me gently so I didn't fall. I looked up in surprise and I saw the most amazing set of deep liquid brown eyes staring back at me full of concern. "Are you okay?" he asked and I nodded wordlessly as I stared at him. He looked a few years older than me and was wearing one of the premed badges that show he was training as a doctor. But his eyes…they were so much like Andy's and his short brown hair that was slightly wavy and curled in wisps around his ears. But he wasn't like Andy, this guy radiated a strength, a confidence that Andy never had, Andy was already broken when I met him, but this man wasn't, he strong and loving and whole.
As he steadied me on my feet, he held out a hand to introduce himself and smiled "I'm Cole Turner"
A/N: Surprised that Prue's true soul mate is Cole? Please R&R and tell me if there should be a sequel. Thanks!