Soon

Mar 28, 2002 14:38

*ahem* this is an old thing I found... Takeru's dead and Yamato's having a hard time coping. Yeah... Read and review if you want.. *runs and hides*

Digimon - PG-13 - English - Angst - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2211 - Reviews: 2 - Updated: 12-9-03 - Published: 12-9-03

Disclaimer: Digimon is not mine. Yay!

Author's Notes: Eh-heh-heh... *major sweatdrop* I wrote this a year and a half ago and just now found it again.. um.. It's not the greatest, and ends sort of abruptly... It was written for Libek's MST3K fic, but she quit writing that. Anyways, if you want to read it, you can, and you're welcome to review, but I personally think this could have been way better.. it had so much potential! Contains character death(s?). This takes place right after 02, so they're still their respective ages.

Contains: mentions of Takari and implied Yamachi, and one very, very strange pairing. I must have been on crack when I wrote this. If the pairing bothers you... just pretend it said Daisuke or something. That's what I'm doing, because it definitely bothers me o.O Also angst. Teen angst. What fun ^^

Originally called I have no idea what to call this fic, now named "Soon"
Soon
by: butterflie, formerly known as Crimson Goddess

sub a/n: why are you here? Go read Tearing Me Apart and Waiting if you want good writing! This is crap!

It was raining. It rained often, and Matt couldn't help but wonder why. It was as if the world knew he was depressed and wanted to make him feel worse. And as far as Matt was concerned, it was doing a damn fine job at succeeding.

Takeru was dead. His wonderful, kind, funny, light-hearted brother was dead. Gone down in a little box in the ground, never to see the light of day again. It would be dark down there. Good thing Takeru was dead. He was afraid of the dark.

So was Matt. Now. He'd relived the moment over and over, each time waking in a cold sweat to the darkness of his room. He used to love that darkness, soothing and calm. He hated it now.

Takeru was dead. Had been, for three days now. Already Matt found himself thinking about suicide. It was a ridiculous thought. It'd kill his father. He could barely handle Takeru's death as it was. Matt's would push him over the edge.

It was too bad though. Matt wouldn't have minded dying. He deserved it, anyway.

It had been raining on that night. It was much a night like this. Wet, dreary, cold. Takeru and he had been caught out in it. He didn't remember why, except that they'd been somewhere. Matt had said something, Takeru got mad, they argued. He ran away from Matt, into the street--

but there was no point in thinking about it. It had done happened. Takeru was already dead. It was not like he could bring his little brother back. He'd tried though. Tried so damn hard that he'd became hysterical. He oculd barely remember. He'd run out into the street, yelling Takeru's name. It had been raining so hard, he couldn't see, couldn't be sure. All he had to go on was the car's screeching brakes and Takeru's shrill scream. Oh God, that scream. Matt knew it would haunt him for a long time to come. That scream, so high pitched, so full of terror. It had cut straight through to Matt. He'd forgotten his anger, ran out there... to think it'd be his brother's last scream... the driver had been slumped over the wheel of his car, unconscious, a little trickle of crimson blood coming down from his forehead.

He couldn't find Takeru, couldn't find him. Matt started screaming Takeru's name at the top of his lungs. Shook the unconscious driver, demanding to know where his brother was. Was Takeru okay? Had he run off, frightened?

He rememebered his panic as he flagged down another car, that panic that surrounded and choked him, kept him from breathing. He knew the ambulance was called. They arrived, carried the driver away. His father had come, a frightened-no, terrified-look on his strained face. It had scared Matt. He'd never seen his father so vulnerable.

His mother had been there too. He remembered glimpses of her hair, her face, her tears.

But Takeru. He wasn't there. They hadn't found him. Where was he at?

Matt couldn't recall much, but he knew he'd gone into hysterics, had to be led away from the scene by his father, who managed to remain calm through it all, despite the turmoil he had to have felt. Matt didn't see how he was so calm. His younger son was missing, presumably injured or dead.

He was in the car. His dad had been about to drive him hime, take Matt away from everything. There'd been an argument. Matt didn't want to leave without finding his little brother. He couldn't leave. He had to apologize to Takeru.

The call came the next morning. Takeru had been found. A lady jogging by had spotted him tangled up in a tree some fifty feet away from the accident. He was, without a doubt, dead.

And Matt never had a chance to apologize.

"Matt?"

He looked up, saw the tree, then looked around in confusion. Hikari was standing to his right, a concerned look on her face.

"Hikari," he said flatly. "What are you doing here?" His pitch didn't even change on the question, Matt noted. He must have looked and sounded horrible to Hikari. Not that he cared.

"I was walking home from the store, saw you staring up at the tree. You looked so distant... I guess I was worried."

Matt managed a feeble smile. "Thanks. I'm okay though."

"You don't seem okay. Everybody's been worried about you. Taichi especially," Hikari told him.

Matt felt a pang. He didn't want Tai to worry about him...

"I'm sorry Hikari. I don't mean to make Tai worry. He really shouldn't. It's just... it's hard to accept that he's gone."

"I know Matt," the brown haired girl said softly. "We all miss him..."

"You loved him," Matt said, the realization coming to him suddenly. He could tell by the tender way the younger girl spoke of him. He was surprised. He knew a lot of people thought Hikari and Takeru were-had been, he corrected himself painfully-an item, but knowing Takeru's preferences like he did, he'd always thought the two felt nothing more than friendship for each other.

"Yes," Hikari admitted. "I did love him. But I knew about Jyou... so I hid feelings, showed otherwise..."

'Jyou? Obviously she knows something I don't,' Matt thought. 'But I won't inquire. I don't want to know.'

Out loud, however, all he said was, "I.. I'm sorry, Hikari. But he still cared a lot for you, you know?"

"Yeah. I just wanted something more. Well, I have to get home now Matt. See you around."

"Bye," he replied as she walked off.

He continued to stare up at the tree after she left. It was the same tree Takeru was found in. He could still see a few bloodstains. There were bloodstains on the road too. Leftovers, you could call them. Leftover pieces of Takeru. They were practically all he had left of his little brother.

Matt let out a sigh. It really wasn't doing him any good to sit here and stare at the blood, thinking of it as leftovers. He'd probably try to eat it or something.

Matt winced. That was kind of gross. Shaking his head, he began to head home, stubbornly thinking of tomrrow's band practice instead of leftover Takeru.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Tadaima," Matt called out half heartedly as he let himself in the aparment. He didn't expect an answer, so he was a little surprised to hear his father's voice reply.

"Okaeri. The guys forced me to take a day off," Mr. Ishida said to his son's questioning look.

The blond merely nodded, not up to speaking. Besides, he was mad at his father. They hadn't even had Takeru's funeral yet and he was already back at work. Matt didn't even think the elder Ishida had taken a full day off from work. After all, he was working when Takeru was born. Why shouldn't he work when Takeru died?

Allright, so he was being unfair and he knew it. Avoiding the problem was Masaharu's way of coping with it. It's the way he had always been. It was one of the many reasons he and Natsuko divorced. According to her, anyways. Matt's father never talked about the divorce with him.

Hanging up his wet coat, Matt headed to his room, locking the door behind him. He set his stuff down and went over to the bed. He'd hidden a knife under his mattress. He'd filched it from Natsuko's kitchen when she wasn't looking. There weren't any decent knives at his own apartment.

He took that knife out now, staring at it contemplatively for a long while. It would be so easy.... Minutes passed. They felt like hours to Matt. Every second of his life seemed incredibly long now that Takeru was gone.

He could end those seconds now, be rid of them all.. he brought the knife against his right wrist.. started to apply pressure....

"I can't do it!" Matt yelled in frustration. He yanked the knife back away his wrist, staring at the few drops of red forming. "I'm such a coward.. I can't do it," he whisphered.

His body was trembling. Why was he such a coward? Did he really want to live with such pain?

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Hey Matt! Wait up!"

Mat turned and saw Tai running to catch up. At the sight of the brunette, the sullen expression on his face softened some. He didn't know why-well, he didn't want to know why, although he knew all too well-, but everytime he came near Taichi, he always felt better. No matter how down he was feeling, Tai always managed to cheer him up. The same was true now.

"Tai," Matt said as his friend fell into step beside him. He offered a small smile.

"Matt!" Tai exclaimed in sheer relief. "I figured you'd be much worse off than this. Hikari saw you the other day, you know, and she said you looked awful."

"I'm okay, really."

"You seem okay enough. I didn't expect to find you smiling. I was so worried about you."

Matt frowned again. For a second there, he would have thought... No, no, it wasn't possible. Not Taichi.

"You shouldn't have worried," he told his friend, waving away suspicions he wasn't entirely comfortable thinking about.

Tai didn't say anything, just nodded, and the two boys walked the rest of the way to school in silence.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Matt woke a few days later, a feeling of great dread in his stomach. Today was the funeral. Takeru's funeral. He didn't want to go, didn't want to face it. He didn't think he could face it. Thinking about his little brother was still painful. Everything was too fresh, the hurt too raw and open. He'd taken to cutting himself to get rid of the pain. His father had noticed, too, only he didn't say anything.

It was typical. His father never did anything to indicate he cared about Matt.

"Matt? Are you awake?" It was father, knocking on his door. Matt didn't want him to come in, so he called out that he was. "Allright," his father replied, and Matt heard his footsteps receding.

'I can't handle this. I just can't.'

He pulled the knife back out from under his pillow again, stared at. He'd gotten fairly good at cutting himself these past few days, it wouldn't be that much harder...

After all, he had nothing to live for. Takeru was dead. His father seemed not to care about him. Taichi had rejected him...

Matt abandoned that thought in a hurry. The pain over Taichi was even worse than the pain over Takeru. If only he hadn't told Taichi... he knew he'd been reading too much into the brunette's concern. But no, he had to go ahead and be the fool that he was. Stupid. It was so stupid of him. Taichi had been gentle about letting him down, but it had still hurt...

It'd be best, to go ahead and get rid of that hurt. No sense in letting it tear into him, ruining the few scraps of life he had left. He'd do best to end it now, get it over with. He'd been thinking it over some days. No point in putting it off any longer.

Quickly, before he could change his mind, he drew the knife sharp across his left wrist, then his right. Satisfied at the sudden intense pain, he sat back against the wall and watched the crimson color blossom out of his wrists and down his arms and onto his bed. It was flowing out at an alarming rate, and Matt smiled, knowing his pain would be completely gone soon.

After some time, he began to feel light-headed, dizzy, and he was starting to gray out.

"Not much longer now," Matt whisphered. "Not much longer."

It was just as he began to black out for good that his dad opened his door.

"Matt!" the horrified cry was the last thing Matt heard as he slipped away, welcoming the darkness. Soon, he'd be with Takeru. Soon.

© 2002 butterflie March 28, 2002 Thursday 5:11 pm

Author's Notes: ha, so it was incredibly short and abrupt. If it hadn't originally been intended for a MsT (which Libek never ended up finishing), I'd probably make it much longer, and it undoubtedly would have been much better. But screw it, I don't really care. I've finally gotten ideas for another story I've been working on since August, and all my time is taken up with that. So laugh at this, and whatever. Ciao, baby! ^_^

digimon, completed, crackfic

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