Author's Note: shitty mood strikes once more and someone had mentioned that it would be interesting to take this a step further so there it is.
~*Not Coming Home*~
~*Chapter Two*~
Charlie lay back on his bed, hands clenched into fists so tight his knuckles were white. He had one chance; he had had one shot to make things okay and he failed. Now Adam was gone forever and he was forced to go to his goddamn funeral in less than thirty minutes. Casey stuck her head into his room.
"Charlie." Her eyes were over bright as she came near to sit on the bed. Charlie's reaction was to shrink away from his mom and stare off into space. She was talking, Charlie could tell by the moving lips. But he couldn't decipher anything she was saying.
"It's not your fault. Adam wasn't as strong as we all would have liked to think," she was saying. Charlie caught bits and pieces of his mother's pep talks that came nearly daily now.
"He couldn't hold on. It wasn't your fault." Mindless chatter. No, she was wrong. He had his one chance to save Adam. His one shot. If he hadn't been such a self absorbed jackass he would have known that if it really hadn't bothered Adam he wouldn't have run off like that. If he hadn't been so obsessed about meeting Linda on time, he would have run after Adam to see if he was really okay.
/flashback/
"Charlie? Charlie Conway?" It was the Dean of students. Charlie frowned, wondering what was wrong. He hadn't pulled any tricks lately and the Dean held an expression tight with an emotion that Charlie couldn't decipher rather than anger.
"I'm afraid there's something that you need to hear." Fear started to course through Charlie's veins, the euphoria that
his date with Linda had created dissipating.
Was he being suspended? Expelled?
"Adam Banks, your fellow team member and as I hear, good friend, has passed away." Charlie went numb.
"Passed away?" he echoed.
"He killed himself." Now Charlie could finally put his finger on the Dean's expression. It was one of annoyance and worry.
"Why would he do that?"
"I don't know," the Dean snapped. "That's what me and the a million nosy reporters will want to know." Charlie still hadn't quite come to terms with what was happening.
"No, there's no way. I just saw him today. Banksie's not dead, he's probably in his room or hanging out with…"
"He's dead. He jumped off from the top of Gallef Hall." Gallef Hall, the tallest building on campus.
"Are you sure it's him?"
"He had his wallet with him for identification and his
face was not marred."
"You're lying."
"Does it look like I'm lying!" the Dean screamed. He was turning red. "Imagine what this will do to the school's reputation!" Something inside Charlie snapped and he launched himself at the older man, punching him in the eye.
"Go to hell!" Charlie screamed. "Leave me and Banksie the hell alone!" The last thing Charlie remembered was the Dean calling for help as he let himself leave he conscious world.
/end flashback/
Charlie had been able to pass expulsion by using the fact that he had been distraught with the sudden news of Adam's death. Now, in hindsight, Charlie wondered if expulsion might have been better. He hated everything about Eden Hall and hated it even more now that it had been the means of Adam's suicide.
Charlie faced the mirror and saw an emaciated body and an angry face look back. He barely recognized himself as he tied his tie and followed the sound of his mother's voice to the car. He watched the world from the passenger seat as he replayed over and over the last conversation he had with Adam. His one chance. One shot.
"Charlie, honey, we're here," Casey said softly. Charlie slowly made his way out of the car and through the throngs of mourning people, eventually to the sad eyes and arms of his friends. He pushed them all away as he stood as close to the coffin as he could and waited patiently through the ceremony until it was his turn to speak. It took him awhile to register the fact that Mr. Banks was motioning for him to take to the front of the group.
"Banksie…Adam Banks was a strong willed person who was always cheerful and will always be in our hearts." The accusing face of Adam floated in Charlie's mind as he started off with clichés. Charlie looked out at the listening audience and felt anger surge through him. Here was all of them pretending like they were mourning over the death of Adam when they were only interested in the gossip of the matter and the shrimp cocktails in the reception.
"You know what? Fuck this." A shocked silence fell over the murmuring people. "Banksie was probably stronger than me or any of you bastards out there will ever be. He was the only one who was strong enough to see this shit filled life for what it was and leave it. I had one chance. One shot. I blew it but you know what? It makes me feel a lot better knowing that I wasn't the only one that killed him!" Charlie turned to the silently weeping Mrs. Banks and stoic Mr. Banks.
"Did you ever hug your son goodbye? Or tell him you loved him? Did you ever look at him when he was off the ice?" An angry cloud passed over Mr. Banks' eyes. Charlie whirled onto his friends.
"Why didn't you see it? Godammit, why didn't any of us see it coming? Why do we have to be so selfish!" Charlie was vaguely aware that Connie had started to sob hysterically and registered faintly that Fulton was pulling on his arm, trying to hug him. Charlie pushed him away; he pushed all of them away.
"Fuck all of you! If it weren't for us, Banksie would be here! Don't sit there thinking he wasn't strong enough to hold on." He looked directly at Casey when he said this. "Don't even think for a second that he was weak because, dammit, he's stronger than you'll ever be!" Bombay and Mr. Banks started to pull Charlie away from the podium, taking him away. He fought.
"You killed him! All of you!" Finally, Charlie fell to his knees, punching the ground until the skin broke.
"Godammit, I killed him."
~*~
It had nearly been a year since the funeral and each day was more hellish than the last. Casey had taken to constantly yelling at him. Stop living in the past, she says. It wasn't your fault, how long will you wallow in self-pity?
The Ducks were a joke. They had disappeared from Charlie's life. Or was it the other way around? Charlie was constantly brooding on the top of Gallef Hall: the last place Adam had been when he was alive. Higher railings had been put around the edge, to prevent other kids from following suit.
For awhile after Adam's suicide, the press had been all over it, trying to squeeze any information out of Charlie but ended up angry at his seemingly inability to speak. Charlie remembered, and stared angrily out into the world; it was bleak and gray. He touched the cold metal railing. He had started to measure his disintegration on it. When he first came up there, he was healthy and the railings did a considerable job keeping him out. As months passed, he was wasting more and more away until now he could easily fit his whole arm and even his legs in between the metal bars. Did anyone ever blow it as badly as he had? None of this would be happening if it weren't for him. Charlie checked the time. The sun would be going down soon, he only had a short amount of time. He would skip the rest of classes; it would be worth it.
Charlie went to his room and pulled on his best clothes. He didn't want Banksie to see how far he had fallen when he sees him. He wanted Banksie to think that he was as strong as him. His pants bagged and his shirt hung loosely on his frame but the jacket that Charlie put on hid both considerably. Finally, Charlie tucked an object into his pocket and caught a bus half the way there and ran the other half, until his vision grayed.
He saw the familiar tombstone that marked Adam's place among the hundreds of other dead people. He touched the smooth stone, turning warm under his fingers. The sun was setting now.
"I'm sorry. You must be sick of hearing that now. I tell you all the time but it's not going to change anything." Charlie couldn't help feeling angry. "Why did you tell me everything was okay? If it bothered you that much…if I had known I would have dumped that bitch the second I had the chance. I loved you Adam. I still do. I would do anything to make things right. I'd do anything to make all of this shit go away. I hate myself more every day. There's nothing to live for Adam. Not since you left me. I want to do things right for once; I want to get my chance, my shot, back. I'll do it right this time."
Charlie stood there, swaying with the wind, wondering if Adam was even listening. He put his hand down that had been extended, touching the tombstone. It fell back on his side, hitting something hard. Charlie frowned, then pulled the object out of his pocket as he slowly remembered what he had thought to bring. As he looked at the metal gun in his hand, a smile started to form across his lips.
He had one chance to make things right again.
One shot.
*End*
