Sad But True

by T. Costa

Conclusion to December Promise. Ten years later, Seifer says goodbye to someone he never thought he'd have to. Rated for language.

Maybe in another life
I could find you there
Pulled away before your time
I can't deal, it's so unfair

And it feels
And it feels like
Heaven is so far away
And it feels
And it feels like
The world has grown cold
Now that you've gone away

I reach to the sky
And call out your name
And if I could trade
I would --"Gone Away," The Offspring

The day that we buried December was surprisingly and appropriately dreary. Dollet had been experiencing a bout of unusually sunny, warm, and inviting weather, which, unfortunately, encouraged the local youths (and the not so young) to bestir themselves into action.
In the past ten years, I had never expected to see December get buried before me. I thought I'd get shot on stage, or murdered for my crimes during the second Sorceress war. That she was the victim of a drive by (right after she and her husband Ken had moved to a much nicer part of town, too) was an ignominious death for someone who had invariably cheated it so often. Being a well-to-do bar owner in the slums isn't exactly a way to cheat death, but she somehow had managed it.
I could see that Ken wasn't holding up very well. He'd just lost his soulmate, his best friend. I honestly couldn't blame him. How would I feel if someone had done this to Squall?
I looked next to me and thanked my lucky stars that we lived in a high-security apartment in Esthar. If I'd had any idea of what was going to happen in December's new neck of the woods, I'd have offered to get her and Ken one, since she had sold the bar and gone into early retirement.
It really galled me, I think, that she was safer in the slums than in the nice areas of town. So much for the Galbadian dream, right?
I was glad that Ken, her only survivor, had opted for a celebration of life, rather than a boring, dreary funeral led by a daughter of Hyne, which was something December had never ascribed to. So one by one, people who had known December went up to honor her with their memories of her.
We had something planned, too, but it was last on the list. The best thing we could ever do for her.
As they lowered her casket into a hole in the ground, I swollowed a last lump and got a drink of water. Our band, still strong after ten years of touring, record making, and unbelievable popularity, took to the stage for her, one last time. Ken had wanted to help, too, and as we didn't have a keyboardist and he knew how, he took to the stage with us, and began playing the organ opening to this last song. Squall opened his mouth, and started to sing the opening verse.

When the fog comes through the Golden Gate
And the moon shines on the bay
And everything has changed
Now that you have gone away
Things are getting darker
And it's harder for me to see
And now you're an angel
Looking over me...

Now it was my turn. It was the way the original punk ballad had been sung, alternating between two singers, one with a softer voice, and one with a harsher voice.

Back up, back up
Let's fucking go!
Beat up, keyed up
That's rock and roll!
Back up, back up
Let's fucking go!
Beat up, keyed up
That's rock and roll!

Sad but true, but the list is too long
If I had to name you all it wouldn't fit in this song
This Magnum's got me thinkin', and it's makin' me pissed
Your lives were took too early, you will always be missed
All the mothers who cry, and the fathers who mourn
For every life that's taken, there's another child born
That doesn't make it better, and it doesn't make it right
I'm just thankful every day that you came in my life

Back up, back up
Let's fucking go!
Beat up, keyed up
That's rock and roll!
Back up, back up
Let's fucking go!
Beat up, keyed up
That's rock and roll!

I had a hard time getting through that part, because it always stung me. To think of all those I had lost, and that everyone had lost, too early, to evil people. And because I knew that I had been one of those evil people once, who had stolen so many lives. I was glad when Squall took over.

In a dream, you take a trip
Down Shattuck, to Germaine
Up the hill, to the steps
Sproul Plaza and Telegraph
You pass Channing, you pass Derby
Go to Ashby, down to Adeline
Take MLK to 54th and go down
To Genoa
And follow the BART tracks
To Harmon street
Oh, Harmon street, Harmon street
Harmon street, yeah
It's reoccuring, it's like a dream
I lived a thousand times
And it's always like the very first time

I had to give a little internal smile, imagining December walking down those famous streets in Esthar. To the best of my knowledge, she'd never been there, but I liked to think that she was visiting in her death, all of the places she'd never had a chance to go to. I opened my mouth to sing the rest of her eulogy.

As time goes on, I could never forget
All the times we had, memories I protect
Seems like yesterday when I last saw your face
You're no longer here, and no one can replace
All the times we had, wish they could happen again
I'll hold you in my heart, in my heart 'til the end
If I could make a change, it'd be me, not you
So hard to sit and cope, so sad but true

Back up, back up
Let's fucking go!
Beat up, keyed up
That's rock and roll!
Back up, back up
Let's fucking go!
Beat up, keyed up
That's rock and roll!

My voice petered out as the rest of the band took up their "Ahhh, ahhh" choral chant that was the ending of the original song. Tears were welling up, and I had to swollow hard to join in. As the song faded into nothingness, there was silence, except for the sound of the wind, and the threatening, far-off boom of thunder, heralding the rain that would come. And then there was applause.
I looked around and saw that we had moved the assembly to tears. Everyone who knew December knew that this is the way she would have liked to have been sent off - to music. And the men who had originally written this song knew what it was like to live when someone you loved died. They had captured the essence of grief perfectly, and everyone knew that. I sent them a small, brief thank you over the eons since their passing, and then we set our instruments down and went with the others to take a handful of dirt and pour it over December's grave, slowly filling it in, as was tradition. Buried by love.
At the end the group milled around, drinking sodas and eating refreshments and sharing good memories. I could see all of our old group - even Jez, who had finally cleaned out and gotten her life straight. Jake, who used to get all of us high and was now the head of the drug enforcement arm in Dollet. All of them had come to pay final homage to December. It was fitting, touching, and it made me cry into the soda I was nursing.
I looked up just in time to see a break in the clouds, and a ray of sunshine spill through the gloom, onto December's now-filled grave, and I knew without a doubt that she had been there for her funeral, and had loved it. For a moment I wondered who here I would next sing a eulogy for, or if anyone here would have to sing one for me, and then I let it pass. And instead of mourning, I turned to the task of remembering the great friend I had just lost, and celebrating her life. And when the rain came, I knew it wasn't the world mourning a loss, but the heavens rejoicing in their newest addition, surely serving up the best drinks to angels.

A/N: "Sad But True" belongs to the Transplants, not me.