Recovery, chapter twelve
summary: Ian dies of cancer. Anthony goes to the cemetery.
warnings: foul language, mentions of suicide
rating: pg-13
A/N: sorry if there's any typos or mistakes, I just got this laptop so I'm still not used to the keyboard. let me know if there's any issues.
He'd just gotten up late and was petting Charlie through the bars of his cage (which sat in their bedroom, resulting in a both comforting and upsetting reminder of Ian every time Anthony heard the guinea pig make a sound) when he recalled he had more filming to do that day. With that abrupt realization, he took a speedy shower, straightened his hair and left, not even seeking out Kalel for a goodbye. Between sleeping and spending very small amounts of time out filming, he felt as though he barely saw the woman he lived with. Maybe, subconsciously, he was even avoiding her a bit.
He filmed quickly, though with a raging headache. They were doing the new Monday videos, 'Smoshy Monday' (he rolled his eyes any time someone uttered the ridiculous words), and in doing so met three more of Ian's predecessors. Katie was the first, a girl of average height with some curves, apparently a dancer and a writer but far too shy to tell him herself; with her dark blonde hair, freckles, hazel eyes and glasses, she was pretty in a relatable way, which was good for the audience. Next was Alyssa, and at only 5’3” she was an adorably chubby tan little thing, with curly dark brown hair and brown glasses. Showing up in a sweat shirt, tennis shoes and an excited smile, she quickly began talking to the other two girls about volleyball, which almost made Anthony smile for a moment. The last was Rosa, with long dark brown hair, dark blue eyes and a northern European accent that was making the entire crew itching to talk to her so they could hear it. Funny, bubbly, and social, she was overall really cute and sure to be a hit with the audience.
Though Anthony was pleased that his crew’s choices for Ian’s replacements were seemingly suitable, he wasn’t pleased at filming, and having to do it without Ian. It was the same old pain and misery that would just have to keep coming and coming, over and over again until the end of Smosh or himself. He was already tired of it, but could do nothing to fix it (at least that was what he thought). Going home, being unable to look Kalel in the eye, that was the sort of rut he was falling into. It was a bad place, worse than any he’d experienced at any point in his life.
***
“Anthony? I know you like to sleep in, but this is ridiculous.” He stirred uncomfortably, cracking his neck and blinking his eyes rapidly to accustom them to the light. It was Sunday morning, and the light gently flowed in from the windows as Kalel leaned over him, slight annoyance on her face.
“Babe, Ian just got a grave marker today, I thought we could go visit him.” She said to him with a great air of patience.
“Grave marker?” Anthony questioned, voice gravelly from sleep.
“Tombstone, sweetheart.” She answered, making her way to the closet to pull out some clothes for him. “You don’t get one until a while after you...pass on.”
“Oh.” He muttered. “So we’re - we’re going to go see a piece of rock lying six feet above my best friend’s rotting corpse.”
“Don’t start with me, Anthony.” She threw a shirt at him. “It’s the nice thing to do.”
“Well I don’t want to do it. Why can’t I just stay here, sleep in?” He covered his head with his pillow in frustration, feeling his hair bend up at odd angles.
“Because it’s two in the afternoon, and because I said so.” Kalel responded with an air of finality, and Anthony sighed in defeat and grabbed the shirt.
***
They drove without words between them, the only noise being the music Kalel blasted to fight the tension. On the way there, they stopped by at a little florist, and when Anthony refused, Kalel stopped in and bought some sunflowers for their friend.
Finally arriving at the cemetery, the couple found their way to the grave, and Anthony stared for a long time at the simple stone that bore the words ‘Rest In Peace Ian Hecox: Nov. 30 1987 - July 8 2012.’ There had been a bunch of blue flowers placed at the gravestone, and Anthony knew instantly that they’d been put there by his mother. He felt a soft hand touch his, and he let Kalel grasp him completely and lean her head against her shoulder. The sun peaked through the clouds a bit, and they listened to some birds chirp without speaking. Anthony figured it would’ve been peaceful if it was Ian in front of him, not the tombstone, but then of course realized it wouldn’t have been peaceful at all; Ian would’ve been chatting like he always used to, back in the old days. That was a sort of peace too, but the kind that’s harder to appreciate while one had it.
“Do you want me to leave you two alone for a minute? So you can say something?” Kalel asked him quietly, and a heavy sadness settled over him.
“Why.” His voice was flat. “He’s dead, he can’t hear me.”
“He might.” She grinned solemnly. “There’s always a chance.”
“You know neither of us ever believed in stuff like that.” He pointed out.
“I’m just saying it’s possible. I’m not saying he’s going to pop out of the ground and-” She paused, bit her lip, and sighed, realizing her statement was a mistake. “I’ll just wait in the car, okay?”
She reached out to pat the marker, almost as though tapping Ian gently on the shoulder in silent friendship, and walked away, leaving Anthony alone with him.
“What now then? What do I say to you?” He stared at the granite. “You’re gone. You can’t hear me.”
He thought about just returning to the car, feeling foolish. He knew Ian was gone, he had (painfully) accepted that. He had a ton to say to him, sure, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk to a rock in a graveyard.
“Fine. Fine, I’ll talk to you.” He muttered. “You know what I want to talk about, Ian? Why you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me you were gay, you didn’t tell me you had cancer. You sick son of a bitch.”
He couldn’t control his shaking fists. His voice got louder.
“I loved you. You were my best friend and I loved you. Maybe even more than - no, no. It wasn’t like that. But you should’ve told me how you felt when you were alive, or maybe you just shouldn’t have told me at all. What do you want me to do, leave her? Like men? Become a widow? I don’t know what to do!” He yelled.
“I’m alone! Without you, Ian, I’m alone! No matter what the fuck anyone else says, even with Kalel and Kris and your mom and your goddamn replacements, I am so stupidly empty and alone. I’ve got no one, nothing without you.”
He sighed, his eyes brimming with tears and his cheeks burning as the volume of his voice quickly faded away. He was ashamed to admit that aloud, especially when Ian wasn’t alive to hear him.
“Come back. Please. Come back to me.” Anthony whispered, and still no answer. He yelled his final words to him. “God damn you! God damn you, Ian! Why did you write that dumb fucking note, huh? Why did you tell me ‘don’t stop living. Grow up, get old?’ Fucking why? Do you think I want to live with this the rest of my life? You lucky bastard, if you can feel anything you should feel really fucking grateful that you wrote that, or I would’ve killed myself and finished all this shit! If it wasn’t the last advice you gave to me I wouldn’t have followed it! I don’t want to live like this, I don’t want to live the way you forced me to live!”
He finished bellowing his monologue, staring at the stone marker, half expecting Ian to just out from behind him and scream an angry reply. Taking deep breaths, he wiped tears from his cheeks, fighting a grimace. Then, composing himself, he walked slowly back to the car, trying not to think of a tombstone standing right next to Ian’s.
warnings: foul language, mentions of suicide
rating: pg-13
A/N: sorry if there's any typos or mistakes, I just got this laptop so I'm still not used to the keyboard. let me know if there's any issues.
He'd just gotten up late and was petting Charlie through the bars of his cage (which sat in their bedroom, resulting in a both comforting and upsetting reminder of Ian every time Anthony heard the guinea pig make a sound) when he recalled he had more filming to do that day. With that abrupt realization, he took a speedy shower, straightened his hair and left, not even seeking out Kalel for a goodbye. Between sleeping and spending very small amounts of time out filming, he felt as though he barely saw the woman he lived with. Maybe, subconsciously, he was even avoiding her a bit.
He filmed quickly, though with a raging headache. They were doing the new Monday videos, 'Smoshy Monday' (he rolled his eyes any time someone uttered the ridiculous words), and in doing so met three more of Ian's predecessors. Katie was the first, a girl of average height with some curves, apparently a dancer and a writer but far too shy to tell him herself; with her dark blonde hair, freckles, hazel eyes and glasses, she was pretty in a relatable way, which was good for the audience. Next was Alyssa, and at only 5’3” she was an adorably chubby tan little thing, with curly dark brown hair and brown glasses. Showing up in a sweat shirt, tennis shoes and an excited smile, she quickly began talking to the other two girls about volleyball, which almost made Anthony smile for a moment. The last was Rosa, with long dark brown hair, dark blue eyes and a northern European accent that was making the entire crew itching to talk to her so they could hear it. Funny, bubbly, and social, she was overall really cute and sure to be a hit with the audience.
Though Anthony was pleased that his crew’s choices for Ian’s replacements were seemingly suitable, he wasn’t pleased at filming, and having to do it without Ian. It was the same old pain and misery that would just have to keep coming and coming, over and over again until the end of Smosh or himself. He was already tired of it, but could do nothing to fix it (at least that was what he thought). Going home, being unable to look Kalel in the eye, that was the sort of rut he was falling into. It was a bad place, worse than any he’d experienced at any point in his life.
***
“Anthony? I know you like to sleep in, but this is ridiculous.” He stirred uncomfortably, cracking his neck and blinking his eyes rapidly to accustom them to the light. It was Sunday morning, and the light gently flowed in from the windows as Kalel leaned over him, slight annoyance on her face.
“Babe, Ian just got a grave marker today, I thought we could go visit him.” She said to him with a great air of patience.
“Grave marker?” Anthony questioned, voice gravelly from sleep.
“Tombstone, sweetheart.” She answered, making her way to the closet to pull out some clothes for him. “You don’t get one until a while after you...pass on.”
“Oh.” He muttered. “So we’re - we’re going to go see a piece of rock lying six feet above my best friend’s rotting corpse.”
“Don’t start with me, Anthony.” She threw a shirt at him. “It’s the nice thing to do.”
“Well I don’t want to do it. Why can’t I just stay here, sleep in?” He covered his head with his pillow in frustration, feeling his hair bend up at odd angles.
“Because it’s two in the afternoon, and because I said so.” Kalel responded with an air of finality, and Anthony sighed in defeat and grabbed the shirt.
***
They drove without words between them, the only noise being the music Kalel blasted to fight the tension. On the way there, they stopped by at a little florist, and when Anthony refused, Kalel stopped in and bought some sunflowers for their friend.
Finally arriving at the cemetery, the couple found their way to the grave, and Anthony stared for a long time at the simple stone that bore the words ‘Rest In Peace Ian Hecox: Nov. 30 1987 - July 8 2012.’ There had been a bunch of blue flowers placed at the gravestone, and Anthony knew instantly that they’d been put there by his mother. He felt a soft hand touch his, and he let Kalel grasp him completely and lean her head against her shoulder. The sun peaked through the clouds a bit, and they listened to some birds chirp without speaking. Anthony figured it would’ve been peaceful if it was Ian in front of him, not the tombstone, but then of course realized it wouldn’t have been peaceful at all; Ian would’ve been chatting like he always used to, back in the old days. That was a sort of peace too, but the kind that’s harder to appreciate while one had it.
“Do you want me to leave you two alone for a minute? So you can say something?” Kalel asked him quietly, and a heavy sadness settled over him.
“Why.” His voice was flat. “He’s dead, he can’t hear me.”
“He might.” She grinned solemnly. “There’s always a chance.”
“You know neither of us ever believed in stuff like that.” He pointed out.
“I’m just saying it’s possible. I’m not saying he’s going to pop out of the ground and-” She paused, bit her lip, and sighed, realizing her statement was a mistake. “I’ll just wait in the car, okay?”
She reached out to pat the marker, almost as though tapping Ian gently on the shoulder in silent friendship, and walked away, leaving Anthony alone with him.
“What now then? What do I say to you?” He stared at the granite. “You’re gone. You can’t hear me.”
He thought about just returning to the car, feeling foolish. He knew Ian was gone, he had (painfully) accepted that. He had a ton to say to him, sure, but that didn’t mean he wanted to talk to a rock in a graveyard.
“Fine. Fine, I’ll talk to you.” He muttered. “You know what I want to talk about, Ian? Why you didn’t tell me. You didn’t tell me you were gay, you didn’t tell me you had cancer. You sick son of a bitch.”
He couldn’t control his shaking fists. His voice got louder.
“I loved you. You were my best friend and I loved you. Maybe even more than - no, no. It wasn’t like that. But you should’ve told me how you felt when you were alive, or maybe you just shouldn’t have told me at all. What do you want me to do, leave her? Like men? Become a widow? I don’t know what to do!” He yelled.
“I’m alone! Without you, Ian, I’m alone! No matter what the fuck anyone else says, even with Kalel and Kris and your mom and your goddamn replacements, I am so stupidly empty and alone. I’ve got no one, nothing without you.”
He sighed, his eyes brimming with tears and his cheeks burning as the volume of his voice quickly faded away. He was ashamed to admit that aloud, especially when Ian wasn’t alive to hear him.
“Come back. Please. Come back to me.” Anthony whispered, and still no answer. He yelled his final words to him. “God damn you! God damn you, Ian! Why did you write that dumb fucking note, huh? Why did you tell me ‘don’t stop living. Grow up, get old?’ Fucking why? Do you think I want to live with this the rest of my life? You lucky bastard, if you can feel anything you should feel really fucking grateful that you wrote that, or I would’ve killed myself and finished all this shit! If it wasn’t the last advice you gave to me I wouldn’t have followed it! I don’t want to live like this, I don’t want to live the way you forced me to live!”
He finished bellowing his monologue, staring at the stone marker, half expecting Ian to just out from behind him and scream an angry reply. Taking deep breaths, he wiped tears from his cheeks, fighting a grimace. Then, composing himself, he walked slowly back to the car, trying not to think of a tombstone standing right next to Ian’s.