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wl_fanfictionTitle: Wake Up
Author: l0v3l1k3w1nt3r
Word count: 1372 (in the words of Comic Book Guy, 'longest fic everrrrrr')
Summary: Jeff tries to deal with the death of a loved one
Pairing: Jeff/Chip
Notes: For the record, NONE OF THE WHOSERS DIE. So calm down about Chip, I swear to god he's fine :P This might turn out as a long-term fic, but keep in mind the chapters won't be numbered; the fragments of the full story, if they come to be, may be given different titles (so instead of 'Wake Up: Chapter One', it'll be titled as it it were a normal story. Once the whole thing is done, it'll make sense ;)
I haven't done dedications before, but I dedicate this to Zuz, my dear fellow Jeff lover and WL mother <3
---
'I am happy...''
The frozen, gentle tears of the gloomy clouds kissed Jeff's face, melting with the faint glow of his body heat. Jeff could feel, through all three layers of his winter clothing, the sharp chill nipping every corner of his body. His breath would disintegrate in the December air, coming and leaving with every rise and fall of his broad chest. Meanwhile, the corners of his eyes felt like they were being ripped apart with every standard blink. He was silent. Alone. The only decibels his poised ears could pick up were the sound of distant voices, only white noise now. A church bell, singing its solemn, steady melody. Most of all, the passage of air filling up his lungs, and a followed, whimpered exhale.
Jeff's tears were too much to hold back. He felt like a helpless child. There was no turning back, there was nothing he could do for his unresolved sins. Jeff could effortlessly admit he was imperfect. A mere human, now with tired, soulless sapphire eyes, and a lost grace in his steps. As a youth. he was described as 'charming, bright... an enthusiastic boy'. But he wasn't a boy any more. And Jeff wasn't half the man he was. No, never ever.
The snow blanketed the entire valley, setting the entire region into a state of fantasy. It was all in slumber, glacier cold, never certain when the spring flowers would bloom again. All the while, Jeff himself was caught in the trance, almost drowsy as he continued to gaze up at the heavens. If it existed. Nay... he thought. It must exist. Where else would he go to after death? They were to meet there, he agreed; he'd bet his soul on it.
In the corner of his eye, Jeff noticed a small, brown creature coming his way. A rabbit, to be exact. Its small, inquisitive eyes stared back at him, his pink nose trembling fretfully. The dear thing hopped on to examine Jeff's black, tousled hair, fresh and wet in the snow. But the rabbit immediately saw it wasn't grass, as he forethought, nor the 'plant' it belonged to edible, so it scurried along, leaving tiny paw prints. Jeff had kept himself mute, pretending not to even notice the creature. But what struck him as odd was the color of the rabbit's hide. Everyone knew rabbits were white in the winter. Yet Jeff had been visited by a brown bunny. Then again, Jeff thought, he could really give a flying shit. Just so long as he could have his moment of peace. But they were still calling. The minister, his mother, the guests... but Jeff refused to let any more voices ring in his ears. They were probably still looking for him. but he would never appear. Even if he was as well camouflaged as the rabbit. He would not dare an inch.
The whispers were getting louder, his name bouncing off the boughs of the forest trees. Maybe, he figured, he was being too stubborn... NO! Jeff had every right! Not after what had happened between them. He shut his eyes, as tight as he could, as if to with it all away.
And then, there were footsteps. The pure, virginal snow crunching softly underneath the visitor's feet. Jeff needn't see the angel's face to recognize the voice.
"There you are."
The man's soft voice was shaking, as if not to disturb Jeff's inner demon. Jeff did not even bend forward to properly address his dear Chip.
"You're not dragging me back, Chip." He could feel Chip's presence loom over to his side, where he gently rested on his knees, and a hand on Jeff's shoulder.
"It's not going to help if you keep out in the cold. Besides... your mother needs you."
Jeff tilted his head to the side, feeling the snow's glacier touch running up his ear. He could see it was Chip who seemed the most troubled, the corners of his lips, usually stapled into a smile, downcast and grim. He was rubbing the fabric of Jeff's shoulder, unconvinced whether it was Jeff who needed the comforting or he himself. Jeff locked his cold damp fingers together with Chip's and heaved a sigh.
"I guess I'll get up then."
He felt Chip's soft lips sink unto his forehead, flinching as if their warmth were singeing his skin.
---
Jeff's mother wrapped her arms around her son's waist, tears staining his dark patterned trench coat. Jeff could feel her shivering in her black mourning dress, as fresh as her grief. To think, this was the woman who had brought him into this world. It seemed really sad, then, that through all the mother's efforts for her child to live, that in the end they would die eventually. Tragically, if the child had lived an unfortunate life. But Jeff couldn't bear to think of that, especially for his mother's sake. What had concerned him the most was, as they broke apart, his mother hadn't even taken one second to look at Chip. She had stared and stared, rather intensely, when she had met him. It was as if Chip were a ghost; or perhaps more suitably, a poltergeist.
Jeff knew she wanted nothing to do with him. Very much to the contrary, however, there were no evil in his mother's eyes. She was simply reacting like every mother would, when she found out her only son had run out on his girlfriend for another man. Any chance of grandchildren flew out the window. Like most mothers, she only wanted what was best for her child, and she wouldn't have cared as much in the long run, hadn't she not been influenced by her husband. Him. This was his funeral.
"In life, Thomas Davis was a bold, respectable man." croaked the raspy, senile voice of the minister. "He was a hard working, loyal, loving family man with a beautiful wife and a filial son." Right. Jeff was filial... "May he rest in peace, and find refuge in the halls of our Father's eternal kingdom."
The dark ash-wood coffin was was slowly lowered, surrounded by an elegiac crowd, mourning and shedding somber tears. As the minister uttered a small prayer, Jeff found himself lost in thought once more. The open coffin was the first time he had seen his father in seven months, since he had confessed to a relationship with Chip. And it would also be his last meeting ever, even if his father had been deceased. Mr. Davis was everything and beyond what the minister had kindly said of him. He was proud, charismatic, driven... to the point that, at times, it was as if he were a monster. As best as he could recall, it was always his father that motivated Jeff throughout his life, whether at times he appreciated it or not. Mr. Davis didn't want to be proud of just himself. Jeff was his successor, the heir to his legacy, his life. For any parent, especially as a father, it was hard to accept Jeff's sexuality. Mr. Davis had thought Jeff was joking at first, when he heard the news. Then, he felt like he never had wanted to hurt a human being as much as he did then. Hatred turned to stress. Stress turned to illness. Illness turned to disease. Pride was his downfall.
It was just as much a sin for Jeff to bring Chip to his father's deathbed. He didn't mean to damn his father with ill praise. Even after the horrible things his father had done, had said to him, Jeff couldn't bring himself to retaliate and do the same thing to his father. No, he had brought Chip with him that day, because he had inherited his father's pride. He didn't feel at all ashamed that he loved a man; Jeff had openly admitted this. Holding Chip's hand the entire period, Jeff let slip the earthy, snow-laced soil, which seeped through the fingers of his free hand and rained down onto his father's coffin.
'I am happy...'
He loved Chip, and nothing could stop that. But no matter what, the bond between a son and father couldn't be broken. So. Was he happy?
Author: l0v3l1k3w1nt3r
Word count: 1372 (in the words of Comic Book Guy, 'longest fic everrrrrr')
Summary: Jeff tries to deal with the death of a loved one
Pairing: Jeff/Chip
Notes: For the record, NONE OF THE WHOSERS DIE. So calm down about Chip, I swear to god he's fine :P This might turn out as a long-term fic, but keep in mind the chapters won't be numbered; the fragments of the full story, if they come to be, may be given different titles (so instead of 'Wake Up: Chapter One', it'll be titled as it it were a normal story. Once the whole thing is done, it'll make sense ;)
I haven't done dedications before, but I dedicate this to Zuz, my dear fellow Jeff lover and WL mother <3
---
'I am happy...''
The frozen, gentle tears of the gloomy clouds kissed Jeff's face, melting with the faint glow of his body heat. Jeff could feel, through all three layers of his winter clothing, the sharp chill nipping every corner of his body. His breath would disintegrate in the December air, coming and leaving with every rise and fall of his broad chest. Meanwhile, the corners of his eyes felt like they were being ripped apart with every standard blink. He was silent. Alone. The only decibels his poised ears could pick up were the sound of distant voices, only white noise now. A church bell, singing its solemn, steady melody. Most of all, the passage of air filling up his lungs, and a followed, whimpered exhale.
Jeff's tears were too much to hold back. He felt like a helpless child. There was no turning back, there was nothing he could do for his unresolved sins. Jeff could effortlessly admit he was imperfect. A mere human, now with tired, soulless sapphire eyes, and a lost grace in his steps. As a youth. he was described as 'charming, bright... an enthusiastic boy'. But he wasn't a boy any more. And Jeff wasn't half the man he was. No, never ever.
The snow blanketed the entire valley, setting the entire region into a state of fantasy. It was all in slumber, glacier cold, never certain when the spring flowers would bloom again. All the while, Jeff himself was caught in the trance, almost drowsy as he continued to gaze up at the heavens. If it existed. Nay... he thought. It must exist. Where else would he go to after death? They were to meet there, he agreed; he'd bet his soul on it.
In the corner of his eye, Jeff noticed a small, brown creature coming his way. A rabbit, to be exact. Its small, inquisitive eyes stared back at him, his pink nose trembling fretfully. The dear thing hopped on to examine Jeff's black, tousled hair, fresh and wet in the snow. But the rabbit immediately saw it wasn't grass, as he forethought, nor the 'plant' it belonged to edible, so it scurried along, leaving tiny paw prints. Jeff had kept himself mute, pretending not to even notice the creature. But what struck him as odd was the color of the rabbit's hide. Everyone knew rabbits were white in the winter. Yet Jeff had been visited by a brown bunny. Then again, Jeff thought, he could really give a flying shit. Just so long as he could have his moment of peace. But they were still calling. The minister, his mother, the guests... but Jeff refused to let any more voices ring in his ears. They were probably still looking for him. but he would never appear. Even if he was as well camouflaged as the rabbit. He would not dare an inch.
The whispers were getting louder, his name bouncing off the boughs of the forest trees. Maybe, he figured, he was being too stubborn... NO! Jeff had every right! Not after what had happened between them. He shut his eyes, as tight as he could, as if to with it all away.
And then, there were footsteps. The pure, virginal snow crunching softly underneath the visitor's feet. Jeff needn't see the angel's face to recognize the voice.
"There you are."
The man's soft voice was shaking, as if not to disturb Jeff's inner demon. Jeff did not even bend forward to properly address his dear Chip.
"You're not dragging me back, Chip." He could feel Chip's presence loom over to his side, where he gently rested on his knees, and a hand on Jeff's shoulder.
"It's not going to help if you keep out in the cold. Besides... your mother needs you."
Jeff tilted his head to the side, feeling the snow's glacier touch running up his ear. He could see it was Chip who seemed the most troubled, the corners of his lips, usually stapled into a smile, downcast and grim. He was rubbing the fabric of Jeff's shoulder, unconvinced whether it was Jeff who needed the comforting or he himself. Jeff locked his cold damp fingers together with Chip's and heaved a sigh.
"I guess I'll get up then."
He felt Chip's soft lips sink unto his forehead, flinching as if their warmth were singeing his skin.
---
Jeff's mother wrapped her arms around her son's waist, tears staining his dark patterned trench coat. Jeff could feel her shivering in her black mourning dress, as fresh as her grief. To think, this was the woman who had brought him into this world. It seemed really sad, then, that through all the mother's efforts for her child to live, that in the end they would die eventually. Tragically, if the child had lived an unfortunate life. But Jeff couldn't bear to think of that, especially for his mother's sake. What had concerned him the most was, as they broke apart, his mother hadn't even taken one second to look at Chip. She had stared and stared, rather intensely, when she had met him. It was as if Chip were a ghost; or perhaps more suitably, a poltergeist.
Jeff knew she wanted nothing to do with him. Very much to the contrary, however, there were no evil in his mother's eyes. She was simply reacting like every mother would, when she found out her only son had run out on his girlfriend for another man. Any chance of grandchildren flew out the window. Like most mothers, she only wanted what was best for her child, and she wouldn't have cared as much in the long run, hadn't she not been influenced by her husband. Him. This was his funeral.
"In life, Thomas Davis was a bold, respectable man." croaked the raspy, senile voice of the minister. "He was a hard working, loyal, loving family man with a beautiful wife and a filial son." Right. Jeff was filial... "May he rest in peace, and find refuge in the halls of our Father's eternal kingdom."
The dark ash-wood coffin was was slowly lowered, surrounded by an elegiac crowd, mourning and shedding somber tears. As the minister uttered a small prayer, Jeff found himself lost in thought once more. The open coffin was the first time he had seen his father in seven months, since he had confessed to a relationship with Chip. And it would also be his last meeting ever, even if his father had been deceased. Mr. Davis was everything and beyond what the minister had kindly said of him. He was proud, charismatic, driven... to the point that, at times, it was as if he were a monster. As best as he could recall, it was always his father that motivated Jeff throughout his life, whether at times he appreciated it or not. Mr. Davis didn't want to be proud of just himself. Jeff was his successor, the heir to his legacy, his life. For any parent, especially as a father, it was hard to accept Jeff's sexuality. Mr. Davis had thought Jeff was joking at first, when he heard the news. Then, he felt like he never had wanted to hurt a human being as much as he did then. Hatred turned to stress. Stress turned to illness. Illness turned to disease. Pride was his downfall.
It was just as much a sin for Jeff to bring Chip to his father's deathbed. He didn't mean to damn his father with ill praise. Even after the horrible things his father had done, had said to him, Jeff couldn't bring himself to retaliate and do the same thing to his father. No, he had brought Chip with him that day, because he had inherited his father's pride. He didn't feel at all ashamed that he loved a man; Jeff had openly admitted this. Holding Chip's hand the entire period, Jeff let slip the earthy, snow-laced soil, which seeped through the fingers of his free hand and rained down onto his father's coffin.
'I am happy...'
He loved Chip, and nothing could stop that. But no matter what, the bond between a son and father couldn't be broken. So. Was he happy?
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Date: 2008-11-23 06:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-22 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-23 06:41 am (UTC)