Author: becky
Rating: PG
Pairing: M/L *gasp*
Disclaimer: Still own nothing.
Muse #8 - Character Death
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I hear the gentle call of the blackbird outside of our bedroom window.
I know why he's here and although I try to ignore him he persists. He's the raptor of my love, the taker of my life. Hovering on darkened claws to branches of life, waiting for his time to scream for his due.
I try to keep my eyes away from the window for fear if he sees me watching him it'll give him more strength. In my heart I know he doesn't need more strength, he already hold all the cards.
I look down at my husband with blankets piled on top of him, his face peaceful, and I fight my tears back with a vengeance. He doesn't need to see me cry again, it won't help anything and I know that. So I remain strong. For him. For myself. For the generations that are waiting with wet eyes and sad smiles.
Waiting for the time that I deliver the news that Max Evans is dead.
I try to concentrate on his heavy breathing hoping it will edge out the call of the blackbird. I'm not ready to let my husband go. I'm not ready to figure out what life is like without him at my side. I don't want to know the feeling of loneliness on a dark night or the forever emptiness of the bed we share.
I don't want to let my husband die.
But I don't have a choice.
I run my thumb over the back of his hand and smile at him as his eyes widen and I see into his quickly depleting soul. He tries to smile back at me, but I know it's too hard. We both know that by the time night falls Max will be gone.
With the strength he has left, he squeezes my hand. I remember the heat he used to hold as a young man. The vigor for life that he treasured. Now I watch him dying. Nothing ever harmed Max, he never got sick, but the one thing he couldn't escape was his body and his body was shutting down.
It was going to be a natural death after an unnatural life.
I keep smiling and I'm struck with the oddest feeling, one I never imagined would come to me as I sit by my dying husband. I'm filled not with sorrow and pain, but joy. As his breath becomes shallow and jilted, I am joyous. I am joyous for the long life we shared together. I am joyous for the ups and downs we faced because we came out on top. I am joyous for the three children I bore to him and the seven grandchildren we were able to love and nurture together.
This life, the one we live in now, is only a passing phase. The shells we burrow in are only temporary and I know that when I leave this plane I'll be reunited with my husband for eternity. Love knows no bounds.
"You can leave me," I whisper to him and kiss his damp forehead. "I know you'll be waiting for me."
I watch him nod as his eyes close. I know they won't open again.
"I love you," his voice is barely a thread of sound.
"And I love you," I kiss his lips for the last time.
I watch his chest rise then fall. It does not rise again. I release his hand after a final squeeze.
My husband is dead. Max Evans is dead.
I hear the callous screaming of the blackbird outside of my window.
end
