IIIMMMM BAAAACCKK!!! Sorry for the long wait. My stupid laptop was messed up. I'm seeing RENT tomorrow! YAY! Goodbye writers block, hello Bennyfic! Still not mine.
Death Cannot Drown Love
When she woke, the house was pitch dark and everyone was asleep. She looked at the clock. Five a.m. Had she really slept that long? It didn't matter. She wanted to sleep forever, just as long as she didn't have to face life and people and especially her parents. Without Angel there didn't seem to be a point.
Her cell phone rang a giddy tune. She'd have to change it. It was too happy.
Who the fuck would be calling at this time of night? She thought angrily as she picked it up.
"What?" she snapped.
"Lily?" said a quavering voice.
It was Roger, Angel's musician friend.
And suddenly, she knew.
"Oh, God!" The words rose before she could prevent them.
"He's dead," Roger said his voice raw.
She would never have believed that there were more tears left in her. But upon hearing that, she let out a high pitched wail of despair. Again, that dark spinning abyss swam before her eyes. Through it, she heard Roger say:
"I'm so sorry."
"Oh, Roger," she sobbed. "When?"
"A little while after you left, maybe half an hour. Mark just had the idea someone should call you."
"Jesus Christ, it can't be. How's Collins?"
"I don't know. He bolted right after they took his body away."
Her heartbeat sped up, like when you're in hot water too long. It was beginning to hurt her.
"Roger, I…I can't say anymore…I have to go."
"I understand. Call us if you need anything."
"I will."
She hung up without saying goodbye. Then for an hour, she did what she referred to as 'six year old crying,' that loud painful crying that small children do when they hurt themselves. After the tears dried, she sat up and looked around her room with dull eyes. It looked just like she felt. Cold, dark, empty. She looked at her open journal and read the words she'd written earlier.
LOVE, HATE, DEATH, HEAVEN, THERE'S NO GOD. THE CHURCH IS FULL OF CRAP. GAY, LESBIAN, FAGGOT, QUEER. AIDS. I HATE AIDS. I HATE MY PARENTS. MISUNDERSTOOD. ACTUAL REALITY. I MISS ANGEL. I NEED ANGEL. HOMICIDE. SUICIDE.
She reread the last word. Suicide. She reread it several times. The image of the gun her father kept in his study flickered in her mind. Many times throughout her life she had been told that she was never to touch it.
Suddenly, everything made perfect sense. That was what she would do. She would not lose Angel again. Nothing would separate them.
She unlocked her door and crept through the darkness into her father's office. She rummaged through one of the drawers in his desk and found the key. She used it to unlock a different drawer. In which lay her father's 9mm handgun, fully loaded. She took it out and closed the drawer. Then, hiding the gun in her clothes ran back to her room.
She took her shirt off and looked out the window at the stars. She put the muzzle of the gun directly in the center of her chest.
"I'm coming, Angel," she murmured. "Wait for me."
She put her finger on the trigger. She was about to let it go when she heard a rustle behind her.
"Lily…"
She turned. Nobody there. Again she heard a voice whisper.
"Tiger Lily…don't do it…No day but today…"
I'm losing my mind, she thought.
Suddenly, she felt as though someone were standing behind her. She turned again. She couldn't see anyone, but the smell filled her. Peaches and cinnamon!
She suddenly felt arms hold her. An invisible hand gripped the gun and drew it down.
"Don't do it, baby…I love you…" the familiar voice said.
"Angel?" Lily whispered. "Where are you?"
"No day but today…I love you, Tiger Lily…"
The voice receded and the arms let her go.
"Angel, no," she called softly.
But he was gone.
If there was any part of Tiger Lily Dumott that didn't believe in destiny or heaven, it was now convinced. She fell to her knees and sighed:
"Thank you, Angel."
She stood up and grabbed her jacket. It was late, but she had to see Juliet. She knew Peter would be up painting. She just had to be near someone. She tiptoed out of the house and ran to the house. She knocked on the door and, as she'd expected, Peter answered.
"Lily! What are you doing here?"
"Angel died tonight."
She had known she'd have to tell him. Still, openly declaring it aloud didn't feel good. His long face fell.
"Oh, honey, I'm sorry. When?"
"Hours ago. After I'd gone."
"You poor dear. Well, Juliet's up. Would you like to stay here?"
"Thank you. I knew you'd understand. I just don't wanna be alone."
"Course you don't. Juliet, baby!" he called. "Lily's here!"
Juliet ran to the door and Lily stepped inside. Her girlfriend's sixth sense kicked in and they hugged.
"Is he gone, babe?" she asked.
"Yes," she choked.
"You saw him today?"
"Uh-huh."
"What did your parents say?"
"That I need therapy."
"Assholes."
Lily spent the next several hours sipping cocoa on her bed and telling them the story of her attempt at suicide. Peter was deeply religious so he believed every word. Juliet threw her arms around Lily and made her promise to call if she ever felt that way again. Finally, the girls fell asleep together. Lily felt safe and a little happier.
I swear to God I'm so sorry! ::hides from Arch of Wand who is hunting her:: If RENT were mine Angel wouldn't die, but I have to stick close to the great Jonathan Larson's vision.
