AN: Ill admit I have been neglecting this little baby for a while, having become more interested in the shounen-ai fandoms and writing quite a bit of original stuff. Not to mention college and University applications: UCAS, the bane of my life. I finally managed to find time to sit down and write this. I appreciate all of the comments and reviews I've received! I really do! And it eventually inspired me to update, I will get round to things I generally just need to be prodded with a large stick for motivation first. I have a Livejournal too if any of you wish to add me, I sometimes post fanfiction in there and works in progress. Name is Niahmas. Ill gladly friend you back! Anyway, I hope this chapter is ok for you all. I'm not too happy with it as I know there a lot of mistakes and whatnot. It could have been much better and isn't up to my usual standard. Please enjoy anyway, and dont forget to review! Love and hugs!
Life's Kiss
By strawberrymiow
Chapter 17 - Bringing the fire
I can't recall how long I stood there for, only vague traces of the passing of time enrapturing me in beat between two worlds. Dark clouds gathered above as the night aged, a thin stream of white light mingling in the mists of a fragmented moon; stars taking over the sky twinkling like old tears staining the memory. My eyes hurt. A nauseating pain pounding at the back of my skull with the torrent of wounds locked behind the prospect of human viewing. I tried to move, the lead weights drawing me down as the feeble attempts of leaving it all behind were vanquished in a heartbeat. I couldn't, not the tears streaming down my cheeks nor the intensity of the pain curling up inside. Rain thrashed against the cold hard pavement like bullets, each one striking another sense of realism into my bruised and battered heart yet this…feeling, whatever it was…it wouldn't let me move. Or should that be wouldn't let me give in?
I glanced down at the crumpled sheet of paper still clenched tightly between white knuckles. The ink was smudged, the first letter of my name swept across in a simple strike through demeaning my very presence in what was apparently my right. I bit my lip, fingers stained with the forgotten blood of so many forsaken souls, soaked black from vengeance and the unnecessary hurt I made them all go through.
Yes. Me: I didn't have to interfere, nor did I have to lead them to salvation through the eternal anguish they had to play over again and again. A black and white movie running with no film.
Mediator; the destiny handed to an unwilling victim at the tender age of three. The grey blobs on the stairs with silent voices and a heart of steel. Confiding in a child to lead them forward when she, herself, doesn't even know the difference between back and forth. A gift? A nightmare? Duty.
Mediator n. One who mediates; especially, one who interposes between parties at variance for the purpose of reconciling them; hence, an intercessor.
Once more I let my eyes rest on the huddled abstraction of vulnerability before me. There was no blood. I don't know why but I always thought there would be. Somebody dies, any form of the taking away of life, of hope; all of a flooding of the lifestream escaping the body at long last. Spiritual freedom, Biological rights. Being present at the murder scene is bad enough: a morgue, mortuary and all of those other places one hears about, even makes jokes about not once considering it could become commonplace practice. There is something oddly calming however, about the serenity of a dying ghost. Ironic I know, how can something already dead be taken out of commission once more? How can nothing become even less?
Simple: he wasn't just nothing.
My vision was disturbingly crystal clear as I walked over, kneeling before him like a prisoner awaiting execution. The atmosphere was horrendous: the air thick and heavy as the situation sunk in. I dont know what happened to Father Dom or Paul. I knew they were there, I may have been upset but nothing can dampen the intuition of one who speaks to the dead on a daily basis.
His face wasn't even bruised, his body wasn't disfigured. It seemed for all the world he was sleeping, features as soft as satin as the rain washed over them. I traced a droplet with my finger. Whispering over his brow and the embedded worry lines creasing the relaxation even now, skimming over his eyelids in mockery of the very life he couldn't possess. I found my own body shaking once more, the gentle simplicity of such motions as these riding it all home with a hammer to my broken heart. His cheeks, his lips…I lingered, memories of those soft petals upon my own another chain to carry.
I cried then; properly.
The moisture built up in the back of mahogany bliss before the dying down of such an emotion levering it all forwards with a harsh racking sob. I clung to him: arms tugging him to my chest tightly as I buried my head by his cold, unfeeling shoulder. A clap of thunder rumbled in the distance, a flash of intolerability flickering through the night as the downpour merged with my own salted wounds tumbling towards an indifferent ending of such an eloquent fairytale. The handsome prince in the arms of the kingdom paying his last duties to the one whom loved him.
"I'm sorry…." I breathed out, a cloud of exasperation murmuring by my lips in the intertwining of fire and ice: destinies little bitches. His hair was so soft, the obsidian locks brushed against my cheek as I moved back wanting to see his face: see those eyes; "I….never wanted….this to happen!!" I cried out, my voice shrill and a wail of distress a few notches more than I would have liked.
It was time.
I had no other choice but to say goodbye.
My clothes were soaked through, the heavy material clinging to my body weighing me down even more. Whispers lined the helpless skies as I spoke, "I love you" I placed my own lips against his for one last time before I was led away by the elderly Priest. He promised me he would give Jesse a proper chance. I promised him I would try and believe him.
I had a dream that night.
Paul was hunched over Jesse's body, the rain was still gushing from the sky and they were both soaked through. Father Dom had broken his promise momentarily for the comforts of a warm drink: leaving the honours to my nemesis. The expression on the mediator's face was comforting yet at the same time unsettling; he didn't have that usual cocky grin nor the predatory scheming smirk. He looked almost wistful: pensive.
He spoke, his voice like a single flame lighting up the dark as the words that poured from him were encased in a feeling I had never experienced nor witness before in my life: no less from one Paul Slater.
By the power of three
"She would be better off dead too you know" he mumbled with careful resignation, "I gave up competing with you when you were still alive so to speak. Well in comparison to now" he sighed, it was a gentle sound, much more so than I though capable of such a brash figure: "I tried to make her happy Jesse, I tried to make her smile. That's all I ever wanted for her, you know that dont you? I bet you think I'm glad about what happened, that it was my evil scheme all along. Can't have her while you're still around so Ill take her when you've gone"
Under the goddess
A crackle of lightning blared through the crying sky: "No offence, but I have more class than that"
If it's meant to be
A singing breeze swept past, ruffling his dark hair with an impish nature: the locks were tousled and doused with moisture as he looked down with such awe.
Give me a sign
"She'll never let you go, you know. I can try and I can try, and maybe, one day, Ill finally get there but no matter what I do or what I say I will never compare"
To the other half of my soul
He bit his lip, brushing a hand through his startled locks; "She will always love you Jesse, even if she promises her heart to me, in hers it can't possibly be anyone else. I'm not jealous, I've past that now. I am simply resigned. For whatever happens, and whatever she happens to say she will always belong to you"
Show me the way
Two twin raindrops fell simultaneously onto two dead eyelids and an intense charcoal of burning fire lit up the twilight with hope and faith.
Let time take its toll
I sat upright in bed and I gasped.
I had to talk to Paul.