Work Text:
Smoke inhalation or being burnt beyond recognition - he could die either way and he would not mind.
If he had gotten here just a little sooner, she wouldn't have died. However, a part of him had wanted to know how the experiment would proceed, to see if it would actually work.
His own curiosity and selfishness had killed the love of his life.
Dimitri kneeled at the side of Claire's corpse, bloody and mangled, her limps bent at impossible angles. One of her legs had been crushed underneath the debris, and her eyes were wide and blank.
"Claire…" Dimitri said as he touched her face. He tried to wipe away the blood that trailed from her lips, but it had already dried and hardened.
Smoke filled the room and a few fires still burned as live, broken wires sparked violently. Dimitri couldn't see Bill, and perhaps he was dead as well. But he could burn in hell for all Dimitri cared.
"Claire, I'm so sorry." Dimitri lifted Claire into his arms as her pinned leg was nearly torn from her body, and he winced as he held her tight. "If I had gotten here sooner, I could've stopped him. Why…?"
This was the first time Dimitri had held Claire like this, and it felt so wrong. She was cold and almost stiff, like a broken doll. More tears fell from his eyes. This wasn't how things were supposed to turn out at all! Even if his love was unrequited, she had someone else she loved, so she was supposed to be happy! That was all he had ever asked for.
What was the point of holding onto an unrequited love if the woman he loved couldn't be happy?
He started coughing harshly. His lungs hurt from all the smoke he had inhaled. If he stayed here any longer, he could die. But what reason did he have left to live?
A nightmare. Yes, this was all just a nightmare. He would wake up, and Claire would still be alive. This accident would have never happened.
If he repeated it often enough, he would eventually convince himself it was the truth.
"Claire, wake up, please…" Dimitri pleaded, gently caressing her cold face. The coldness was sharp against his fingers, and felt all too real.
Death was final. He could no longer prove to her how much he loved her.
He kissed her bloody lips. Though dry, the blood had that sharp, coppery taste. She hadn't been dead long - he had seen the explosion happen with his own eyes - so how had she already grown so cold? This corpse, once so beautiful, only sapped his warmth as his arms tightened around her. Her body was always so slender, and he could only imagine how warm she would have been if she was still alive. He slipped his tongue past her lips, and tasted even more blood.
"Claire…" He tried to lick the blood from her face, but that only smeared blood more over her colorless skin. She had been beautiful when she had been alive, so full of life. For her body to be so broken and mangled like this… it just wasn't right. She wasn't supposed to be dead.
Yet holding this lifeless, broken doll still aroused him.
"I'm so disgusting…" Dimitri muttered as he slipped his hand past the hem of Claire's pants and between her legs, and his other hand slid underneath her shirt and along her back. "Can't you still feel something?"
He kissed her again, and his fingers trailed along her spine, and she was still deathly cold. Even as he gently stroked her sex, she made no response. Of course she wouldn't, he thought bitterly. The dead felt nothing.
To feel such pain and grief was proof he yet lived.
"Damn it…" he swore as he continued to touch Claire's lifeless body. His erection bothered him, but he didn't care about his own pleasure at all. Claire was all that mattered to him.
He pressed his body more against hers, and he cupped the nape of her neck to deepen the kiss. His hands and lips were already covered in her blood, and his clothes grew dark red as well.
"I love you, Claire… I love you so much…" he began to repeat over and over. His fingers had fallen into an eccentric, unstable rhythm, and as he kissed her lips, her eyes, her throat, his lips became more stained with her blood. The taste was vile, and yet he could not get enough of it.
He had never fallen in love before. He had never seen the need for romantic love. So perhaps it had been fitting that his only love would be unrequited, and now the love if his life could never be happy. All he had left was this depraved façade.
The dead couldn't climax. This barely counted as making love, he knew. Yet he continued, hoping to bring some final pleasure to her.
Dimitri grew weaker as more smoke filled his lungs, suffocating him. His eyelids grew heavy as his vision blurred, and his arms felt limp, and it took all what little remained of his strength to hold Claire's body. He heard sirens in the distance, and he almost swore he also heard Bill groaning in pain. But if Claire was dead, what did the rest of the world matter?
"Claire, I promise I will save you. I will make you happy." As those words left Dimitri's lips, he finally lost consciousness, and he had just enough strength to set down Claire's corpse gently before he slumped, but he still held her tightly, her lifeless body his only company.
When he awoke in a hospital several hours later, he had made up his mind. Even if she never forgave him, he would save Claire, no matter what.