|I Hate You
Author: Peachy Lime Daiquiri PM
“It’s a good thing no one’s around anymore. The priest would probably try to exorcise me for saying this to a dead guy.” Warning: slash.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst - Words: 1,848 - Reviews: 8 - Favs: 6 - Follows: 1 - Published: 11-27-06 - Status: Complete - id: 3260666
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I hope you read the warning…
Okay, so in this fic, there is a lot of swearing. I wasn't sure if it's enough to warrant it an M, so if it is, let me know so I can change it. And it's at a funeral. The POV, and the person who died, are both a mystery until the end. Except, since I'm bad at that sort of thing, you can figure it out if you do a little math.
Oh, and unlike my other oneshot, this one is blatantly SLASH. I intended it to be that from the start. So if you don't like that sort of thing and clicked on the link anyway, now's your chance to turn back. Yeah, the speaker and the person who died are both guys. Oh, and there's hints of other various pairings.
BTW, I'm on a oneshot kick right now, so don't be surprised if I end up posting more of these. Ultra sporadically, of course.
DISCLAIMER: "Every time I make a plan, God laughs at me."
"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of…"
The priest drones on and on, but I don't listen. What does that priest know about this? About any of this? What does he know about the people around him? Hell, what does he even know about you?
How could you do this to us? How could you be so stupid to let yourself die? How could you just leave us like this? Leave us all behind?
I hate you. I hate you so much.
I look around. Everyone is silent, tears pouring down their cheeks. Makeup runs down the girls' faces in rivers. Sam's face is red. No one looks pretty anymore.
How dare you make them all look so ugly?
Well, not me. You won't make my face turn into a waterfall. I refuse to cry over someone as cruel as you.
I hate you, remember?
It's overcast and windy, and it's going to start to rain soon. No, not because of Storm. She's not doing a thing to the weather today. No, this shitty day is all you. You're making the sky gray.
I hate the color gray. Guess that's why you made the sky that, huh? Did it to piss me off?
Well, congratulations. It's working.
There's so much black. I hate the color black, you know. And now you've made me wear black. Everyone's wrapped in black. We're like a fucking black lake or something. The only thing that isn't black here is that stupid white thing on the priest's collar.
Oh, and the roses. These fucking white roses we're all holding. I hate white, too. It gets dirty too easily. And then it looks hideous. Scarred and tainted.
You've made everyone look so vulnerable. They're huddled together in pairs, like they can't even support their own weight or something. Kitty's got her arm wrapped around Kurt's like a fucking vine or something. Jubes is crying into Bobby's shoulder, his arm around her to try to comfort her. Tabby and Amara have an arm wrapped around each other, their bodies pressed so close together it's probably painful.
Look at what you've done to them. I hope you're happy.
God, I hate you.
You know, I hated you the moment I met you. There was something about you that just made me tick. Of course, when we ended up roommates I found out the feeling was mutual.
The priest is still talking. God, when will he just shut the fuck up? All that shit he's saying doesn't mean a thing. He doesn't know shit about you.
You know, I actually started liking you for a little back then. It was right after Amara dumped you and you got so moody and holed yourself up in our room so much everyone yelled at me to do something about it.
And I actually started liking you. And you actually started liking me. Shocked the hell out of both of us. I almost started calling you my friend. Almost.
And then this happened. All those months of inching toward like rebounded and snapped me back like a rubber band, even further back than the beginning.
It's simple. I hate you.
Everyone's holding on to someone else, holding them like they can draw them into the new hole drilling its way into their hearts. I'm not. I won't let you drill a fucking hole into my fucking heart. You'd probably make it all black and white and gray, just to piss me off.
Shit. I'm crushing my fucking rose. The thorns tore my hands open, and I've been bleeding on the petals this whole time. Now the rose is spotted with red. That's better. I like red. It's the only real color here besides the grass.
The priest is finally done talking. Now the casket's being lowered, and I can hear choked-back sobs from the girls. Bobby's biting his lip so hard it's turning white.
Great. Now you're messing up Bobby's lip.
Everyone's moving forward to toss in the roses. Amara must have noticed what I did to mine, since she presses a new rose into my hand before moving forward with Tabby to pay her last respects.
I slowly walk forward while everyone else leaves until I'm the last one still standing in front of your grave.
I hate the word grave. It's such an ugly word.
Huh. I can't move. My eyes are locked on the two roses in my hands. The battered, splotched one's in my right hand, the pristine white one's in my left. It doesn't even have any thorns, this one. Its meaning fits our relationship perfectly.
Hate at first sight.
My left arm mechanically reaches forward, my fingers twitching open to let the rose fall. There. I've said goodbye.
My feet won't let me leave. Why? Are you holding my feet down, keeping me here?
Why won't you let me leave? Why won't you let me get into that ugly black car and go back home to my room?
Yeah, you heard me. My room. Not our room. Not anymore.
And it's all your fault.
I don't even know what I'm gonna do with all your stuff. I'll worry about that later.
Still won't let me leave, huh? What, do you want my ugly stained rose, too? It's even worse now; I've been bleeding on it some more while you've kept me here.
Fine. Take it. I hurl the rose down into the grave. It lands perfectly in the center, an ugly blotch of color in a sea of white and black.
Shit, why am I shaking so badly?
"I hate you." It comes out as a whisper.
The shaking's getting worse. I wrap my arms around myself to try to contain it. I won't let you break me. Not like you broke them.
"I hate you."
It's a good thing no one's around anymore. The priest would probably try to exorcise me for saying this to a dead guy.
Dead's another word I hate. Death is beautiful, but dead is ugly.
Plus, so many stupid people misspell it.
"I hate you."
People can probably hear me now. I hope that priest already left.
Goddamnit, why won't you just let me go?
"I HATE YOU!"
She watches him as he trudges back to the limo, opens the door with a shaking hand, and sits down. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Tabby glance at her before looking back at him. All his moves are jerky, mechanical.
She grips Tabby's hand as the limo starts moving, and Tabby squeezes back. They watch him silently, worried. They don't know how he'll recover from this.
"He broke all of you," he says, his voice devoid of emotion.
"He did," she agrees quietly, clenching Tabby's hand tighter.
"He won't break me. I'm not letting him."
"He won't," she assures him, glancing at Tabby. They both know he's right.
They both know he won't be broken, just like they both know there won't be a hole drilling its way into his heart.
"You know, you gave me a thornless rose." He stares straight ahead.
He smiles bitterly. "It matched us perfectly."
"Hate at first sight."
"I know." She exchanges another look with Tabby. They know.
He stares down at his shaking hands. "I hate him."
She bites her lip. "I know."
He looks at her sharply. "I mean it, Amara. I hate him. I hate him with all my heart."
She holds the truth back from her eyes. "I know."
He sees it anyway, and she can only watch as he crumbles. "I hate him," he mumbles desperately, hugging his shaking hands to his shaking body. Hot tears slip out of the corners of his tightly shut eyes. "I hate him so much."
She doesn't try to comfort him. They know that to comfort him would only make it worse.
He knows the truth.
He wishes he didn't.
When the limo stops, he jumps out of the car and all but flies up the stairs. The people gathered in the living room flinch as the sound of a door slamming shut echoes throughout the mansion.
"Will he be all right?" Jubes asks, even though she knows it's useless.
She shakes her head. "I don't know."
She knows he won't be broken, and there won't be a hole drilling its way into his heart.
Because, way back when she had broken Roberto and drilled a hole in his heart, he had been there to seal it back up.
And he'd drilled one in his own heart.
He'd broken himself as soon as he'd fixed Roberto.
And now that Roberto was gone, he didn't need to pretend to hold himself together anymore.
Tabby sees the sadness in her eyes and hugs her. They both know.
You can't break what's already been broken, and you can't drill a hole where one already exists.
"What's wrong with Ray?" Jamie asks Amara, his sad eyes wide with confusion.
She smiles sadly and gives him a hug while she contemplates how to answer.
It's quite simple, really.
"Ray hates Roberto."
They know the truth.
A quick note on the meaning of roses:
White – purity and innocence, although the meaning I meant here was reverence
Thornless – love at first sight
Red and White – given together, they signify unity
So…that was my first serious slash. How was it? Review, please.