TITLE: In Black & White

Author Name: Jacki (kbfan)

Feedback: Always appreciated, on list or privately.

Status: New, complete

Archive: Yes, please do. C5, TS, SB, WWOMB...anyone else interested please email me

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Tobias Beecher/Chris Keller

Category: AU, Angst

Summary: Toby recieves a letter that changes his life.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, sadly. Tom Fontana and HBO do. Although I'd be willing to rent the boys from them for a reasonable sum.

Notes: This story is an inverted image of the other fic I just posted, "In Living Color." I had been away from the computer for awhile due to RL and it's problems...when I finally got back I was
desperate to write again and these two stories are the product of my need to write. I must thank Caly for my inspiration as well as the beta. Love you sweetie.

In Black & White

by Jacki

Toby had only been out on parole for two months; he still couldn't stop himself from looking around in wonder every time he stepped out of the house. The clear azure of the sky, the downy whiteness of the clouds; it was almost like he had been blind for the past five years and had suddenly been gifted with sight.

Toby stepped barefoot across the dewy lawn, savoring the coolness against his skin. Moments ago, he had noticed the postman through the picture window and he was impatient to check his mailbox. Over a week ago he had written Chris and every day since then he had been impatiently awaiting a reply. Toby felt his stomach flutter as he pulled the mail door down; he was sure that today would be the day.

Toby reached his hand into the box; he wrapped his fingers around the small stack of envelopes and pulled them out. He flipped through the pile, bill...bill...bill...and then there it was...a letter; Toby's name and address carefully printed on the front, it had to be from Chris.

Toby smiled, running his fingers across the block letters on the front; he was glad that Holly and Harry were spending the day with his parents, he wanted to be alone when he read Chris's letter. Toby walked quickly back toward the house, his step a little lighter as he climbed the stairs to the porch. Entering the house, he went straight to the study; Toby curled himself into his favorite chair, unable to suppress the grin that spread across his face, as he prepared to read the letter. He slid a brass letter opener along the crease of the envelope and pulled out two tattered pages. Setting the envelope to the side, he began to read.

**********

Beecher,

Got your letter. I thought I told you not to write -- to just forget about me, this place -- when you got out. But I should have known, you never listened. This time though, I need you to read these words and respect what I'm asking of you. Fuck, this is hard. I wish you had just not written, then I wouldn't have to tell you any of this. I could just lay on my bunk and imagine you, out there, free. Enjoying your life, your kids, the world.

Goddamn, how do I write this? I've accepted it. Writing it down for you to see is harder than when I heard the words myself.

Toby...they convicted me and now here I am sitting on Death Row.

**********

Toby's mouth dropped, his fingers were numb and the paper flittered to the floor. He could feel the wetness gathering at the corners of his eyes. Toby buried his face in his hands, even the filtered light from the window suddenly seemed too bright. The heavy grey cloud that had descended over his heart was the only thing he could see, feel, experience. Toby allowed the darkness to engulf him as warm, salty tears began to roll down his cheeks.

He sat there for what seemed like hours, the tears flowing unbidden; Toby's face was streaked with horror and grief as his mind struggled to comprehend the words. Death Row.

Toby finally bent over, retrieving the dropped pages from the floor; his tears had dried and he could taste the bitter sting of salt as he ran his tongue across his lips. Toby focused his vision; he had to read the rest of the letter.

**********

Shit...I didn't want to tell you this way. Fuck that, I didn't want to tell you at all. But then you had to go and send me a letter, and I couldn't let you go on thinking that one day everything was going to work out in your rose-tinted mind. I had to do something. I had to make you know that you have to forget about me, give up on me.

Dammit Toby...live your life! You have it right there in front of you.

***********

A single tear slipped down Toby's still wet cheeks spattering softly on the rumpled paper. He knew Chris's words were true; he needed to go on, to live outside...for himself and his children. Toby couldn't help but wonder, however, how could he do that? How could he just pretend like Chris didn't exist, like the feelings they had shared had just been some jailhouse delusion?

Casting his eyes back down to the page, Toby continued to read.

**********

Beech, Tobe...this has to be goodbye. You have to let go of the idea of us. There are a few things I want you to know first though, and then I want you to throw these pages in the trash and set yourself completely free of this place and everything that ties you to it.

There are so many things I wish I hadn't done, so many times that we fought with fists and with words that I wish I could erase, but those are the things that in the end held us together. Our relationship (or whatever you want to call it) was so fucked up, I don't know how we managed not to kill each other. Thinking about it now, sitting here in the dim light of the cell, I can see it all clearly. We hurt each other deeply and often, but in some fucked up world it was all about the fact that I loved you and you loved me.

Shit, I know we've said it before, but it just looks so real now, written on this page in ink. I did love you, Toby, and I always will. I will take everything you ever gave me with me when I go. I will hold the memory of you deep inside, so nothing can ever taint it again. But, that's the way it has to be now. We have to just be a memory; something that happened and when it was good, it was amazing. It was a fragile thing that needed to be handled delicately within these hard, cold concrete walls. In the end, no matter how many times I fucked up or you fucked up, that's what I remember. The good times.

Toby, I remember how just touching you would send shivers coursing through my body. I had never had that, not with Bonnie, or any of the others. I could never understand why I deserved anything good, anything pure. In truth, that's probably the reason I hurt you so many times. Christ, how could someone like me deserve to be loved, by anyone, but especially you.

**********

Toby ran his fingers over the words; he tried desperately to imprint every syllable into his mind. Toby smiled wanly, imagining Chris Keller sitting there writing down his feelings. Lowering his eyes once more, he began to read the last two paragraphs.

**********

Damn, I've written a book here. Hell, maybe that's what I'll do...write book. Wouldn't that be a laugh. Anyway, I guess that's about it. I think my hand's about numb from squeezing this pen so
hard.

So, Toby, please, this time listen to what I'm asking you. Don't write again, don't come and visit. Go on with your life. Live it like you may not have a tomorrow, hug your kids and tell them you
love them, hell, do something crazy. Just know in your heart that I love you, and remember the good times. But, Toby, don't dwell on the thought of me sitting here waiting to die. You deserve something better than that, someone who can be free to love you in the way you are entitled to be loved.

Please respect what I'm asking of you.

Chris

**********

Toby carefully folded the thin pages and slipped them back into the envelope. He would respect Chris' wishes, but there was no way he could throw the letter away. Standing on legs that shook
tremulously, Toby crossed the room to his desk. He pulled out the top drawer and gently placed the letter inside the cover of a tattered notebook for safekeeping, sliding the drawer closed with a
soft click.

Wearily, Toby moved back to the chair; he pulled his legs up beneath him and lay his head against the supple leather. Toby closed his eyes, an illusory image of Chris floated behind his eyelids. Tears began to flow again, for what he had lost and for everything that he had gained. He cried for Chris, for himself, for all that would never be and all that was still ahead.

end