Work Text:
Sunday, 28th September, 2008
By the golden hour no sunlight reaches our backyard anymore.
The surrounding houses block out most of it, the wooden fence does the rest. Some of that glinting sunlight washes overhead and is caught by the ridge of the roof.
Underneath, where I stand, only shadows remain, tinged and warmed by occasional reflections of light in the windows.
I shiver a bit as a cool breeze passes through the backyard.
"I wish we could have saved everyone.", I mumble. My voice is a dwindling rasp, gone with the breeze.
Somehow, she still catches my words.
"Me too."
Arms wrap around me from behind. I lean into her warmth and close my eyes. The afterimage of the flat, gray stone echoes in my mind. A crude grave, dug and decorated with love. Memories of years long past tumble behind.
Rainy days on the couch where Bongo would claim all the space and leave Max and me to huddle in the corner. Some mornings he'd cuddle up in my lap or on my chest, not letting me leave bed until mom threw us both out. Him helping me with school work, occupying my text books, or running over the keyboard of dad's old computer. And somehow he put up with Max and me, even when we yelled and laughed and jumped around like crazy, nothing would wind him up. Instead he would come up with his own coups, that innocent impression on his face as if he could never do wrong. He'd find me when I was down and lay on my lap, purring, being there, and it would get better just by that.
The memories rise from the deepest places, long buried under all the other fucking miseries. They rip old wounds open, wounds that never really healed, but now they feel painfully fresh, drawing guilt like blood.
"Life is so fucking unfair."
I think I already said that, but it's true nonetheless.
"He still enjoyed every second of it since he's been with you.", Max replies.
Moral of the story: No one's every really saved... more recent memories, ambiguous.
Except I seem to be. Max faced a fucking tornado instead of going back in time to let me die. We ended up here, dad is alive. I know she would save me again in a heart beat, she will continue to save me from the destructive thoughts in my mind. Even if I sometimes forget this, deep down I know.
I wish I could have done the same for Bongo. I wish I would have locked him in the house that day.
"I swear I'll never forget him, Chloe."
Max lets go of my waist and steps to my side. My hand finds hers naturally.
Neither will I. I would say so, but sobs choke out any chance of comprehensible words.
"It's okay.", she whispers, "I'll get us into time freeze."
Even as I try to fight the new tears back, the flood of unshed ones washes over me.
I don't remember the last time I got to fucking grieve in peace. After everything that happened a pet that's been dead for five years - it should be nothing, but it has the power to create an avalanche. One small stone, ripping rocks of pain and grief from the mountainside that piled up next to me over the years.
I crumble under the onslaught. It's everything I pushed aside for too long.
My knees hit cold ground, Max catches me before I fall all the way.
It's all coming loose. I let it out, every uncried tear, every bit of buried pain and anger, all that fucking bullshit I tried to ignore. I'm saved, dad is saved, I can save Rachel. Only Bongo...
Despite of all the free flowing emotions I'm anchored to Max's touch. Not only saved, I am safe, no one except for her will ever know of my breakdown.
I place my palm on the cold, smooth stone next to me. I'll never forget you, I promise him.