The Ride

Just a little note; this is the last chapter of the story, and it's done from Joey's POV. I'm goio poo post the thanks for the reviews after this, as I promised, and after I'm going to post another songfic, Fallen, that's going to be a spinoff of this story! Thanks to all the readers for their support and their reviews (those that did). It meant so much to me, since many authors are very high-maintenance. ~_^ Without further ado, on with the story!

Chapter 8: Shooting Stars and Razorblades

The first thing I notice as I walk into the funeral parlor, apart from the totally insane temperature, is the complete and utter silence. Almost reverently, I brush the snow from my jacket, leaning forward to peer into a few of the rooms closer to the entrance. Those that aren’t closed up are empty, and I find myself wondering whether I screwed up the date or something. 'Can’t be. I checked the paper fifty times before I left. It’s gotta be today.'

I make my way down the oak-paneled halls, a somber painting catching my eye every so often as I pasFinaFinally, just as I’m about to give up, I catch a glimmer of light spilling out from the room at the end of the hall. Steeling myself, I take a deep breath and enter.

Despite the raging blizzard outside, I had expected to find someone else here. Work-related acquaintances, Kaiba Corp executives, maybe even one of our teachers. Instead, what meets my gaze is row upon row of empty seats, extending from where I stand to the other end of the elegant and quite obviously expensive hall.

Before I have time to convince myself that I don’t really want to go through with this, I stride down the aisle, a confidence in my step that is by no means reflected in my heart. The empty seats send chills down my spine as I pass them, feeling like a too-curious horror movie protagonist in a haunted house. 'And I thought funerals were creepy when they were packed...'

You’re lying in a beautifully finished oak casket on a slightly upraised platform, and I’m tempted to delude myself into thinking you’re simply asleep. Maybe this is some warped cosmic joke, and if I only have enough faith in the possibility, you’ll wake up, apologize for everything, and we’ll ride off happily into the sunset. 'Yeah, and I think I see a pig taking off over there.'

As I clear the last row, I hear the muted creak of a chair shifting against the linoleum. To my right, a vaguely human shape is lying in the front row, wrapped in an overlarge coat, his raven hair spilling out onto the adjoining seat. 'Mokuba.' I kneel next to him, stroking his head softly, and he burrows deeper into the coat, which had obviously belonged to you at some point in time. Poor kid hasn’t been taking this well, I’m sure. Last I heard, you guys weren’t on the best of terms, and now... it must be just as hard on him as it is on me. Perhaps even worse, although just thinking about what that would be like could probably make me lose what little control I’ve thus far been able to exercise over my grief and, to a lesser extent, my hatred.

Rising from the floor, I move up to your coffin hesitantly. The entire platform is covered in flower arrangements that I know for a fact you would have despised. “It’s so easy to hate you,” I whisper, not wanting to wake Ma upa up. He can use whatever sleep he can get at this point. “You’re such an asshole, even in death, leaving us like that. A coward, and a vicious monster...” I break off suddenly, fighting back tears. I’ve cried enough; the least I can do is be strong now, if only for a little while.

“But you weren’t totally bad either, were you?” I continue, half expecting an answer. “I know you loved Mokuba... at least as well as you could love anything.” I stop again, taking a deep breath. “Did you ever love me, Seto Kaiba? I know what you said that day, after we...” 'Don’t go down that road, Joey.'..bu..but, still... you seemed so sincere the rest of the time, I can’t believe it was all a lie. You must have felt something for me, something other than hatred, or that perverse satisfaction you knew so well. I...” Another deep breath. “...I can’t believe I gave all that I had to someone who was more a machine than anything human. I just can’t. I can’t have been duped soily,ily, not into giving up something that important. It’s not possible

Of course, I don’t really expect you to answer, do I? Still, I stare at your face for a long time, praying for another glimpse of those midnight eyes, so cruel and enticing at once. I trace the poorly covered lines around your throat, where the rope cut into your flesh. Did it hurt, or were you beyond the pain by then?

I flex my wrist against the gauze strips that bind it. I know I was that day. It’s so amazing, how you can let yourself believe you have it all, only realizing how hollow and fragile it all is when it’s shattered in a pile at your feet. Amazing, and devastating.

Seren’ found me a little while after I got the nerve to do it. Apparently, I cut too shallowly, or so the doctor said. It certainly looked deep enough to me, but it’s not like I had any experience with that sort of thing.

I probably would have tried it again, and succeeded this time, but watching Serenity cry at my bedside for nearly three straight days, until I was released, made me realize that I wasn’t the only one that my suicide would affect, and I can’t do that to her. I can’t leave her alone, like you did to me. I’m not like you, Seto Kaiba, although whether I should feel proud or relieved by that fact still escapes me.

For all that you did to me, no matter how evil you were, I still miss you, more than I can say. I gave you my heart, unconditionally, and that kind of love doesn’t evaporate like morning dew on your perfectly tended lawn for anything, even the knowledge that it’s not reciprocated. I still love you, Seto, just as much as I ever did. Perhaps you were right in calling me a puppy dog; no matter how many times I get kicked, I’m not going to stop coming back to you.

God, I would give everything I had left just to see you one last time, to have the chance to tell you this face to face. Why did you leave me, and Mokuba too? Where are you, Seto, when we really need you?

I know you’re none of those things I called you before, not at your heart. When you let your guard down, let me see you for who you are, the darkness was overwhelming; still, in the very center of it, there was a ray of light, like hope out of Pandora’s Box. It had been crushed under the tide of responsibilities, the weight of a thousand evils pressing down upon it, a million sins, but it was there all the same. It takes real sgth gth to combat that kind of darkness as yid fid for so long, and I admire you for that.

You’re such a puzzle to me, Seto. You always were. I hate you, yet I love you more than life itself. On one hand, you’re weak for not allowing yourself to love, and on the other you’re strong for continuing to exist against such overwhelming odds. Hotter than Hell, but cold as ice. You’re a swirling mass of complexities, and I wish that I had had more time to decipher them.

Leaning down, I kiss you for the last time, softly and fleetingly. You might not have done much else to merit Heaven, or even Purgatory, but you gave me something to base my life around; my love for you, unchanging and stable. Should you lose your way in whatever plane you wind up on, my heart will be the path that will bring you where you wish to go. It’s the very least I can do for the love of my life.

I sit down beside Mokuba, resting his head in my lap and comforting him as best I can. Don’t worry about him, Seto. He’s in good hands. Again, it is the very least I can do.

Goodbye, my love.