Angel of Death

There was a 500 word story challenge in the PKSP a while back - this is a fragment that's almost 500 words. . . If you hadn't guessed from the title it involves the death of a major character. There's no sex, just sadness. Sorry. Paramount wouldn't want this, which is just as well. I've now got three death stories and a couple of rape ones to boot. I'm starting to think I've got a morbid imagination.

Temaris

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Angel of Death

"Wake up, beloved." He just lies there. That terrible colour to his skin, dying.

I lean closer, and the dark eyes open, but he's not awake. Not in any way that would let me say everything I meant to.

His hand is cold. Extremities have already lost circulation. It won't be long now. It's the point of no return. They've agreed to let him go, like he made me promise. Oh love, don't go.

She's here, waiting for us. We - I should have done this long ago. But now is all we have left, so now is enough. Let it be enough. There's more quiet movement around us. A hissed injection of something. There's a long moment, the doctor complaining, a low irritated buzz, but you're there, aware, back for a moment from whatever hell of pain trapped your mind.

Very quietly, the doctor is pushed away. There's no use for him here.

So she asks us the questions that should have been said so long since, when I thought they did not matter. He says nothing, but his head moves, slightly, louder than a scream. I answer them too, yes, yes, oh please, for as long as we both. . .

I don't care what the doctor says, I've got to hold him. There's not really room for both of us on the narrow bed, and I ask if I can take him home instead. He wanted to refuse, but the captain overruled him. She knows - well, we all know.

It's dark and quiet. He is breathing still, but only just. "I love you," I whisper, curled around him, as if I can block the angel of death from him when he comes for him. Touching ring to ring as if the late binding of gold between hands can hold him here.

Those eyes, which have been so full of pain for so long, are deep and quiet, pools of dark peace. The pain has gone. He's got too many drugs in his system to feel it anymore. Too many drugs to survive, if he were not dying already. I don't want you to go. I can't tell you that, but you know anyway. There's a tiny frown between your eyes, a slow hand falls heavily against my cheek, touching the tears.

I love you, he mouths, the breath isn't there to make the words. I'll always love you.

Oh, me too. Let him stay. Let him stay. We're here, in the bed we've shared for so long, and I want time to roll back, to take away everything I did wrong, until there are only perfect moments between us. I never understood, but you loved me regardless, and me? How could I help but love you, my darling. How will I ever help loving you? How will I ever live without you. . .