This is a one-shot contestshippy. The reson I am giving it the R rating becuese it just seem's to be to adult for the PG-13 one.
It is said that if you truly love something or some one you would let them go.
I sit under a tree as the Beautifly begins to dance
I just close my eyes as my heart begins to dream
All I can do is enjoy this sweet memory
Feeling the Beautifly dance with my soul
Starting to stir up so many mixed emotions
I was so sure I had under control
Just as I thought I was ready to let go of you
The Beautifly brought in another thought of you
Once again my heart began to ache
As my tears started running down my face
It's your voice that I can hear, so loud and clear
All the sweet words you said to me some time ago
Bring back a smile to my face and soul
Then I remember you, letting go of me
And all you left me with, was sweet and bitter memories
Your letters and the precious words you wrote
Are tattooed inside of me, I realized was letting go of you
Is like ripping out a part of me… A part of you will always
Stay inside my heart and that is where you'll stay forever more
It's good to see you May." His eyes were drowning deep, green as gardenia leaves and shadowed black and gold and violet, full of the shadows and silences she'd carried as long as he'd known her.
"I wasn't sure you'd heard me." There was a whispering loss in her voice, a plea for mercy she had long since given up hope for. Sunlight filtered through the autumn-kissed maple leaves above her and painted scarlet secrets into her hair. Orderlies walked patients along the winding paths of the meditation garden, here and there a relative sat awkwardly with a blank-faced shell of humanity.
Drew stood with his hands shoved deep in his pockets, huddled in his jacket, while May sat on the ground at his feet, pressed back against the tree as though seeking strength from the smooth bark. For all he knew, she was.
Five years and three thousand miles he'd put between them, trying to run from her memory, from the scent and taste of her skin, the silken sweep of her voice across his ears. She had been his world, his heart, the other half of his soul, a siren vision with dancing eyes and a laugh that could turn every head in a room. Now she was a translucent shadow of herself, worn thin and frail by the madness that had taking over her. Her creamy skin bleached ice-white by too much time spent in dimly lit hospital rooms. All that remained of what had been a bewitching sensuality was the rich dark brown length of her hair and those drowning sapphire eyes.
He'd thought he'd forgotten her, until the dreams started. Night after night, he'd find her waiting for him, sitting at the foot of his bed, watching him with those sad, strange eyes, and calling his name, begging him to come back, to save her. How could he save her? He couldn't even save himself. He had run away from the same things that had driven her to her knees and turned her mind into a twisted maze of shattered mirrors and broken dreams.
She looked up at him with that odd flicker of a smile that twisted his heart into knots. Her long fingers flicked lightly over a cluster of white chrysanthemums, dancing through the lacey leaves. A shimmer of color and shadow appeared like magic in her palm, and she lifted it slightly towards him. A Beautifly rested against her white hand, wings ragged and barely flexing, antennae drooping. He knelt reluctantly beside her, reaching out to cup his hand under hers.
"It's not a matter of salvation," she said softly, reading his thoughts as easily as she drew breath. "It's a matter of mercy." She blew a breath softly across the battered wings of the Beautifly, setting them trembling. "Poor thing. She's so broken, isn't she? She can't fly. See where her wings are torn? Nothing to do but wait, in pain, for what comes next. Easy prey for whatever comes along. It's kinder, really..."
Her hand closed gently, careful not to crush the delicate wings. The air shimmered, stood still, for the space of one long breath. She lifted her gaze to his as time stood still, a spiral of silver sparks blazing to life in her eyes. The silence stretched between them like heavy chains, and broke with an almost audible snap.
Her hand fell open. He looked down at the still shape, so much tissue paper and twigs where the frail life had been.
“You see? No more pain, no more fear, just peace." Softly May said.
Drew backed away shaking his head, denying it, denying her. He can’t believe what she just did.
"You can't do that on the drugs. They told me you were harmless."
"True enough... but there was no harm in this. No pain. Just kindness. She slid into sleep and never woke up, that's all." She lay the tiny corpse back into the tangle of flowers beside her. The rays of light bright across her wrists, with their silver hieroglyphs of scars that told their own eloquent stories through the tracery of blue veins. She let her head fall back against the tree and looked up at him, the fire in her eyes snuffed out again.
"What do you want from me?" He heard the tremble of fear in his own voice, hated it. She laughed weakly, her hands moving vaguely, indicating their surroundings.
“I'm tired, Drew. So sick and tired of being sick, and I don't have the strength to end it. You're right about that much of it. These damn drugs steal what little power I had left. A broken Beautifly with a death wish, a call for help to a fellow witch... I have that much left to me. It's harder with a twenty-five year old body in perfect physical health." She said like a curse, and he could see in her eyes the hatred for the body that kept her tied to life with its strong heart and reliable organs.
"Let me get this straight. You called me back here to help you commit suicide?" Disbelief took his voice hollow and deep. What makes you think I can be any help to you?" He spat the words at her, and she shrugged and spread her hands.
"I can't do this alone. I'm too broken, too weak. I need someone's help. You were the only prayer in hell." The slanting light threw the delicate bones of her face into sharp, crystalline lines. Her hair swept forward like a veil, leaving a fan of shadows on her cheeks where her lashes fluttered. She was silent for a long time, as the light changed and a chill bereze flirted with the leaves overhead.
"If you love me, Drew. If you ever loved me, please..."
“Don't beg." He came and sat beside her, his arm automatically sliding over her shoulders, fitting her into the curve of his body. She turned to rest her cheek against his chest, over his heart. He tangled her fingers in the thick sable strands of her hair where it fell over his hand and rested his chin on her hair. Under the sharp, disinfectant smells of hospital living he could smell her shampoo, somewhere between roses and rain, and the soft clean perfume of her skin. Her pulse beat steady and slow, contretemps to the painful thudding of his own heart.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. She smiled, her fingers coming up to tangle with his free hand, and shook her head.
“Together we can get you through this May.” Drew hold on tightly to her body. Not wanting to let go.
“No Drew, its to late for that. I just, want to end my suffering, fine that eternal peace.” She said softly.
He felt the tiny spark of the spell between their clasped palms, her will and knowledge and his strength twining into a single rope of power. Her breath ran out in a long, shuddering sigh and he felt the connection snap, leaving him alone in his own skin again. Her pulse fluttered against his palm, once, twice, then... nothing.
Into dreams I slip away faded do become the words on the wall of my heart. The burning blaze of that Arcanine that we fought over engulfs my soul as burning all I grow and all that I know to be.
Lost I am now, without the self that I was. I lost to mistake, such a mistake of what was done and all I didn't do.
All gone it disappears into the ocean of pain. I Float away on the Wailord out into the ocean.
With grief at passing I lose all that I had thought to be. Off on are way into the ocean.
All the while a single tear falls as I turn away from the ocean. With a whisper I say "Goodbye".