Lost Video Island

[mistojen]

Right away

(might take me like ten minutes to get the coding right without the HTML and also to censor the swears, but it'll be up asap! I wanted to give you time to catch up )
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avatar: Plastic!Winchester Theater by anteka @ LJ; icon by me
sig by AlcoholicPixie

[mistojen]

Betrayal


“Rube!” I scream, running out the door of Der Waffle Haus after him. “Wait!”

Rube slows his walk to the truck, but doesn’t stop.

“Rube,” I gasp as I get to him, grabbing my side as I get a stitch from running. “Why a purple one?” I pant, spent, and bend over a little to ease the ache in my side. “Why purple?”

Slowly, Rube turns around and looks at me. “You broke the rules, Barbie. I don’t like it when the rules are broken on my watch.” He pauses, shifting one foot to another and stares at me, presumably giving me a chance to admit defeat. The problem is, I don’t know what rule he’s talking about. Does he mean when I let Mason reap Steven Smith and send him into those f***ed up lights...or does he mean when I talked to Claire and Kate? I don’t want to incriminate myself for one crime when he means the other, so I just look at him, blinking, jaw slightly slackened.

“And what’s worse,” Rube says, narrowing his eyes a little and lowering his voice, “is you dragged someone else into it.”

Give me a f***ing clue, will you?! I think to myself angrily as I look at him.

“What’s it mean? The purple Post-it?” I ask, standing up straight again as the stitch in my side eases away. I shrug at him, deciding to sound annoyed rather than defeated. It’s a tactic that worked on Boone hundreds of times, and it’s at least worth a shot. “You gonna send me away, Rube?” I look him in the eyes and as the words come from my mouth in that tone, I can almost hear myself talking to Boone, back when he offered me his savings to move to New York.

“You believe I can do it, or don’t you, Boone?”

The two of us just look at one another for a few seconds that feel like forever before Rube finally speaks again. “You’re not going to apologize or make some stupid excuse, then?”

He’s changing the subject to throw me off and I’m not going to let him do it.

“Are you sending me away, or aren’t you, Rube? Because, if you’re sending me away, I at least want to say goodbye to my friends.”

Shaking his head, Rube crosses his arms over his chest. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mason and Charlie standing just outside the door, watching and probably trying to listen.

“You’re dead, Barbie. You don’t have friends; you don’t have boyfriends,” he adds pointedly, pausing for me to comprehend that he knows about Mason and I, “and you don’t get goodbyes. That’s not how it works.”

“What do you want from me?!” I shout, surprising myself as much as Rube. “Huh?! What? What do you want from me?!”

“Just reap your souls, Shannon.”

I’m taken off-guard by Rube calling me by my actual name. He’s never, ever called me that. Okay, maybe once or twice, but usually it’s when he’s mad at me and this time is no different. “What’s going to happen to me?” I ask weakly, knowing that there’s just no way I can hold up my strong facade. I’m going to let him win, because I know that I can’t, no matter how hard I try. “I don’t...want to go,” I whisper honestly.

Rube stares at me for another second and I feel a little sick as I wait in a horrible anticipation for him to answer me, or at least to acknowledge my admission.

“This is strike one, Shannon. Don’t f*** with the Jenga tower,” he says, leaning close to me so that only I can hear. I assume he can see Charlie and Mason in his own periphery vision, as well. “You do not go back to that island without my permission. You do not speak with the living to tell them about yourself, or anyone else. There are no loopholes and I know everything that you do. Don’t f*** up again, or that’s it,” he says. He sounds calm, but the look in his eyes deceives it.

Now wait a minute. Rube knows that I took Charlie to the Island and he knows that I talked to Claire and Kate...but Charlie did, too. So why isn’t Charlie being chastised? And, another thing...if he knows about our expedition, but he doesn’t know about what Mason and I did, which, clearly, to me, is a lot worse...

I look away from Rube and over at Charlie. He shifts from one foot to another. I look back at Rube.

“I mean it. Now, go eat your dinner before it gets too cold. You’ve got a lot of reaping to do today, little girl, and you can’t afford another mistake.”

He turns away from me and gets into his truck, starts it, and drives off, leaving me there in the middle of the parking lot to brew.

I look back over at Charlie and narrow my eyes. That f***ing son of a bitch... I knew he was a stickler for the rules, but to rat me out? That’s low, even for the likes of Charlie.

Tears well up in my eyes and trickle down my face as I walk back to the door to go back inside. Charlie and Mason both look anxious for an explanation, but I push past them angrily and go directly up to the counter.

“Kiffany, can I have a To-Go box, please?” I ask.

“Sure,” she says with her back to me and grabs one before turning to me. “Whoa, sweetness, what’s the matter?” she asks, seeing my tears. Now they’re streaming down my face and I’ve got a horrible lump in my throat, trying to hold back any sobs.

I snatch the box away from her. “Never mind,” I snap and go back to the table to box up my dinner. I leave a twenty on the table, which, I know is also the same as leaving Kiffany almost a fifty percent tip, but I don’t care about my change. I just want to get away from here.

Mason and Charlie come up to the table as I’m dumping my food off the plate and into the box.

“What happened?” Mason asks, face ashen with anxiety and fear.

I don’t look up from my task and I don’t reply.

“What was the purple Post-it all about?” Charlie asks.

My face is burning and the tears just keep streaming down my cheeks. I look up at Charlie and, for the first time, I hate him. “How could you?” I breathe. “How could you? You’re supposed to be my friend! I can't even trust you!” I hiss at him.

“Shannon, what...?” Mason starts, looking confused and, yes, I see the tinge of jealousy on his face at being left out, but the annoyance I feel for that pales in comparison to the anger I feel at Charlie right now for betraying me, and I’m going to let Mason’s jealousy slide for once.

“Shannon...” Charlie starts and he reaches out for me.

Before I can even think about it, I reach back a hand and slap Charlie as hard as I can, right across the face. An angry red imprint of my hand flares up on his cheek instantly and his eyes go wide with surprise.

“Shannon!” Mason shouts, grabbing for my wrist. The waffle house has gone eerily silent with only a soft polka tune interrupting everyone in there from watching the scene unfold.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap at Mason and pull my hand out of his reach. I look over at Charlie again and the confusion in his eyes just infuriates me further. He’s a good liar, but I’m not buying what he’s selling.

Charlie reaches a hand up to gingerly touch his cheek as he stares at me. “Shannon...what...?”

I put my box down on the table and I grab Charlie’s chin in one of my hands, putting my face right up in his. “Get your s*** and get out of my house,” I say, not bothering to wipe the tears as they progress down my cheeks, now in a slow drizzle.

My whole body is shaking because I’m livid, and it’s apparent in my voice, no matter how hard I try to keep it steady. “When I come home tonight from my reaps...I don’t want to see you; I don’t want to hear you...I don’t want anything to do with you and I mean it. I don’t care where you go or what you do. Just get your s***...and get the f*** out,” I say, “ I’ll be at my reap,” I add as an after thought, mostly to Mason, and I let go of Charlie’s face, shoving him away from me.

I turn and grab my box, and push past the two of them again, leaving Der Waffle Haus and the two confused British men, one of which I used to consider a friend, behind.
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avatar: Plastic!Winchester Theater by anteka @ LJ; icon by me
sig by AlcoholicPixie

[PsychoCynic]

Hmm, I wonder if Charlie really told. Rube has lots of way to find out about stuff!

Anyway, full of drama. I like it! I'm assuming Shannon won't "move on" as Mason paranoidly (is that a word?) thought with his purple post-it.

Also, if you're getting rid of the cursing for my sake, don't worry about it. I don't mind reading swearing (I mean, it IS a large part of my vocabulary ) unless you're doing it for the whole sake of LVI, then go wild.

Keep it up!
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[mistojen]

[mistojen]

Big Mistake


After I reap my choke victim, I watch her die. I watch her die and I enjoy it...that’s the sick thing. It almost makes me feel better, as hideous as that sounds. I look down at my watch and see that I still have almost two hours before I need to hit the carnival for my big stack of reaps. I’m not looking forward to having to be anywhere near Charlie, but it’s my job, so I’ll just suck it up and do it.

I sit in the bar area of the restaurant and sip on a cranberry and vodka, brewing over the events of today. I can’t believe that Charlie would do that to me. And, the thing is, as mad as it makes me...it really, really hurts my feelings. He knew I was already on thin ice and he just willingly made it a million times worse. I could’ve gotten sent away...I could’ve been given a Last Call, but he just big, fat f***ing did it anyway.

“Smoke?”

I turn to the voice and see that a young man, probably in his early twenties, is sitting beside me, offering me a cigarette. I don’t smoke because I’m an asthmatic. Well, I was an asthmatic...but I’m dead, and my asthma doesn’t bother me anymore, so I figure it can’t hurt any. Plus, I’ve had a bad day.

“Thanks,” I say, taking the cigarette from him and leaning toward him to let him light it for me. I take a deep drag of it and smile weakly at him before turning away again.

“I’m Seth,” he says.

I roll my eyes, but I put on the fake smile and turn back to him. “Seth? I’m Emily. I’ve had a really rough day, so please excuse me for being rude, but...I’m not really in the mood to chat, okay? Thanks again for the cigarette,” I reply.

Seth nods and looks annoyed by my attitude, but he leaves me alone. Eventually, when I’m about halfway finished with the cigarette, I hear him get up and I see him leave. Good. I didn’t want to talk to him, anyway.

“Shannon...?”

F***. Not now...

I turn to the voice and look at Roxie. “Yeah?”

Roxie crosses her arms and shrugs a little. “I didn’t think you’d still be around,” she mutters.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, stubbing out the cigarette and frowning.

“What, with that stunt you pulled,” she says.

“Fantastic,” I groan, “so Charlie’s not just ratting me out to Rube; he’s ratting me out to everyone? Does Mason know, too, or should I just go ahead and let him in on it?” I ask her bitterly.

Roxie grins and shakes her head. “You’re a really stupid girl, you know that, Shannon?” she asks, taking the stool beside me and nodding at the bartender, then ordering a glass of water as I stare stupidly at her. “You really think that Charlie just told Rube all about your dumb little adventure? Why would he incriminate himself like that?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at me.

“How the f*** else would Rube know what happened?” I mutter angrily.

“To tell you the truth, Shannon,” Roxie says casually, sipping on her water, “you’re lucky I didn’t tell him about what you and Mason did to that little boy, too.”

Wait...what?

“What?” I ask her. “I’m sorry...what?”

“I knew it was a mistake. New reapers make stupid mistakes and it was a pretty big f*** up, but I like you, in general, and you keep Mason happy, so he doesn’t bug the s*** out me so often, so I didn’t want to see you go. I kept it to myself.”

“You knew?” I ask, raising my eyebrows. I can feel my eyes widening with surprise.

Roxie nods and looks down. “But two f*** ups... I couldn’t keep both to myself, or you’d never learn,” she says.

“How do you know...how did you know we went to the Island?” I ask, dumbfounded.

Again, Roxie grins and this time it reminds me of Mason’s my-s***-don’t-stink grin. I frown. “You really think that guy at the airport didn’t realize his plane was missing? Come on, Shannon. Please tell me you’re not that retarded,” she groans.

“Still...how...?”

“I’m a cop,” she replies, rolling her eyes and tugging at her badge. “As for what happened on the Island...” she pauses. “Rube just knows things, sometimes.”

“So...Charlie didn’t...?”

Roxie cuts me off. “Charlie didn’t rat you out...Rube would’ve ripped him a new asshole, too...and rightfully so. I would imagine that the way you two couldn’t look one another in the eye and the way Charlie had to keep repeating himself and constantly calling you by your name, instead of just talking to you, the next morning didn’t help matters...”

“Oh, no...” I groan. “Oh...no...” I stand up quickly and drop a five down on the bar for the drink. “I have to go.”

“What’s the rush?” Roxie asks, “don’t want to keep me company?” she adds with a wry grin.

“Oh, Roxie, it isn’t that at all...” I stammer, just anxious to get out of there and catch Charlie before he high-tails it out of my house, “I–”

“Have an apology to make?” Roxie offers.

I nod and frown. “Yeah.”

“Go on, then,” she mutters, waving me away.



When I’m about a half block away from the house, I see Charlie walk out of it, head down, guitar case in hand. I see that there’s a single tattered box on the porch. Not only do I feel bad about what I said to him and for slapping him, but...I pity him.

Charlie’s got one box worth of stuff that belongs to him in this life. Most of that stuff, too, I’d wager, is Mason’s clothes. The rest is stuff I bought him. The only thing he owns outright is the guitar he’s finished paying me back for. He even paid me $50 extra in “interest” as a thank you. But, he’s standing outside our house...

...our house. He’s got nowhere to go. My house is not my house. “My” house is our home. Mason wouldn’t take Charlie in...not if he thought it would put a rift between us. Rube stays out of our affairs. Roxie...whatever.

I step on the brake and watch him as he turns slowly away from our house and hoists his guitar case’s strap up over his head so that the case is slung over his shoulder. He bends and picks up his one box of possessions and just stands there. He looks so lost...

Suddenly, I feel really embarrassed about the way I lashed out at him and I don’t know if anything I can say to apologize will actually cover the damage. After everything Charlie has done for me since he died...I was still so quick to assume that he’d put me on Rube’s s*** list just to save his own ass. Now that I think about it...hindsight is twenty-twenty. Of course it wasn’t Charlie who told...Charlie would’ve taken the fall for me, if he’d known. Charlie’s the kind of friend who would’ve stood up and said that he had done it; that it was his idea, if it meant keeping me out of the line of fire. And I just...jumped to the opposite conclusion with absolutely no rhyme or reason.

Charlie takes a step forward and stops, looking around. Then, he turns around and heads toward the garage. Its door is pretty busted up, so I don’t park the Mustang in it, because I don’t ever feel like fighting with it to get it open. Charlie sets down the box and takes off the guitar, putting it gingerly down beside the box, and, with a lot of effort and a grunt I can hear from here, pulls the ratty garage door open. A rat bursts forth and scampers into the street. Charlie’s shoulders heave with what I can only imagine is a heavy sigh, and he picks up the box and guitar again, taking them into the garage. He really has nowhere to go...and he’s clearly planning on taking up residence in this disgusting excuse for shelter. This makes me feel the worst I’ve ever felt in my life.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I let my foot off the brake and pull slowly up the street and into the driveway. Charlie whirls around at the sound of the car and freezes, looking like a deer in headlights.

When I park the car and shut off the ignition, Charlie looks down, blushing. “Shannon...” he starts, “I know you said I have to go, but I don’t know where...and...you’ll never see me or hear me, I promise,” he stammers as I get out of the car. He sounds so horribly defeated, and at the same time, I can tell he’s hurt, because he doesn’t know why I kicked him out.

“Charlie...”

“Never mind,” he says quickly, taking up his guitar, “I’ll figure something out,” he adds, reaching down for the box.

By now, I’ve reached him and I take the box out of his arms, putting it back down on the ground. “Charlie.”

He looks up at me and I can see that he’s got dried tear-tracks on his face. My heart breaks all over again. I’ll never call him on it, because he’d probably never admit to it, but they’re there, clear as day.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, looking down.

I can feel his eyes on me and, sure enough, when I look up, our eyes lock. I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear and frown.

“What did I do?” he breathes. “I thought and I thought and I can’t bloody figure it out...” he admits.

I don’t know what to say at first. Well, I mean, I know what to say...I just don’t know how to say it. “I made a big mistake,” I utter softly, still trying to arrange the words of my apology and explanation in my head so that they come out sounding, at least, a little intelligent.

Charlie raises his eyebrows, almost distrustfully, prodding me to go on.

“Can we go inside?” I ask, partially to stall and give myself more time to word my apology, but partially because the breeze has picked up and it’s a little biting. I shiver a little.

Charlie smiles weakly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks down for a short moment. “I don’t know...” he says quietly, “can I, Shannon...?”

I frown, more at myself than at Charlie, and bite my bottom lip. Charlie’s not going to make this easy for me, is he? I look back up at him. “Of course you can,” I breathe.

He grabs his guitar and I pick up the box and the two of us head inside.

“I know there’s probably nothing that I can say to make you not hate me right now, Charlie, and I understand...” I start, blurting out the words quickly, because I’m afraid that if I give him time to talk, he’ll tell me awful things that he thinks of me...and the worst thing is, I’d deserve every last one of them. “The purple Post-it...Rube knew about our trip to the Island.”

Charlie’s eyes go wide and he opens his mouth, but I hold up a hand and keep talking, because, again, I’m not ready to hear what he’s got to say to me, yet...not until I finish saying what I need to, first. With my eyes on my hands, because I can’t look at him right now, I go on. “He knew that I took someone with me and he knew that I talked to Kate and Claire and I never told anyone–-not even Mason–-about our little expedition, and he told me that it was strike one and that if I f*** up again, ‘that’s it,’” I explain, “and he just...he...he knew and you and I were the only ones, you know? And I thought that you must’ve...I thought that you...” I pause for a second and take a deep breath, looking back up at Charlie and into his hurt eyes. I frown and my face is burning from the embarrassment I feel for what I thought. Now I have to actually come out and say it. “I thought you told him. I thought that the only way he could’ve known about it, was if one of us told him, and I knew that I hadn’t. And I thought that...since you told him, that was why I was getting the brunt of his wrath.”

There. I said it. Charlie knows that I’m a jerk and I’m admitting that I know that I am, too.

The look on Charlie’s face is mixed. I can’t tell if he’s hurt or angry...or maybe a little bit of both. I would be, if it was the other way around...

“I would never do that to you, Shannon,” Charlie says slowly, looking down and shaking his head. “I would never...do that.”

“I know; I’m sorry, Charlie...” I reply quickly, “really, really sorry...”

“How could you think that I would? Even for a second?” he asks, looking up at me again, brow furrowed with frustration, “after everything I’ve done for you...?”

I can feel a lump rising in my throat and I don’t want to let it out–-I know that it’s a sob. I can also feel my eyes welling with tears, but I won’t let them fall without a fight. I have no right to be upset right now...

Shaking my head and biting my lip again, I frown. “I don’t know. I’m sorry...”

Charlie’s expression softens a little and he smiles weakly at me. “Don’t cry, Shannon.”

Well, dammit, I wasn’t going to, Charlie, but...

With those words, my tears start to free themselves, although the lump in my throat has gone and, so, the tears are silent. I feel his thumb graze the apple of my cheek, wiping away a tear and I sniffle, reaching up to wipe them myself. It’s not Charlie’s job to make me feel better about treating him badly.

“Shannon,” Charlie says, “please don’t cry...it breaks my bloody heart when you do, love.”

I let out a half-sob/half-laugh and sniffle again, smiling at him. “I’m sorry...I just feel so bad...I’m sorry that I yelled at you–”

“And slapped me,” Charlie interjects with a small smile.

“And slapped you...and I’m sorry that I kicked you out. I’m sorry that I didn’t just ask you what happened...I’m sorry that I’m a terrible friend,” I finish, frowning and looking down again.

Charlie shakes his head. “You’re not, Shannon.”

I look up at him sharply. How, after dragging him to the Island against his will...after putting him face to face with Claire and making him lie to her, then leave her behind for me; after falsely accusing him of betraying me and kicking him out of our house, can Charlie tell me that he doesn’t think I’m a terrible friend?

“I don’t understand,” I admit and I open my mouth to elaborate, but he stops me, cupping my face in one hand and forcing me to look him in the eye.

“You’re a good friend, Shannon...you just made a mistake,” he tells me, “and I can forgive mistakes. Even big ones,” he says with a smile. “Because, you’re my friend, and I love you.”

“I don’t deserve it,” I say, because I can’t think of how else to respond to this. Charlie’s friendship is one like I’ve never known and it’s confusing. How can he just forgive me after all that? He should hate me, by all rights, shouldn’t he?

Charlie’s eyes look sad when he smiles at me this time. “I hate that you think you don’t deserve it,” he says, “because everyone deserves to be forgiven their folly and everyone deserves to be loved. Even you. ...especially you.”

The way that he’s looking at me, I think, for one horrible second, that Charlie is going to lean forward and kiss me again, like in the car...and as much as I love his kissing skills, I don’t think that it’d be good for either of us if we did that again...at least...not so soon...

I’m going to pretend that I didn’t just think that. Strike it from the record, folks; Shannon Rutherford is not a cheater...all the time.

Charlie does lean forward, but he wraps his arms around me and gives me one of the best hugs I’ve ever had. It’s less than a bear-hug, but it’s definitely there, you know? I hug him back and rest my chin on his shoulder. “Thanks for understanding, Charlie...” I whisper, “and for not hating me.”

He pulls away from the hug and looks me in the eye, reaching up a hand and tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I never could, Shannon,” he says, “I really never could.”
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avatar: Plastic!Winchester Theater by anteka @ LJ; icon by me
sig by AlcoholicPixie

[PsychoCynic]

Oh, nice! You've written Charlie particularly well in this chapter! I'm glad they made up.

And, Roxy! Should've known. But, like in DLM, she often (unfortunately) goes unnoticed.

This has got NOTHING do with the story, but I noticed the CE link in your sig. I was just wondering ... how the hell does one provide the url to a link, but type over it with one's own text. I figured it out on LJ (well, I still haven't been able to figure it out when posting replies. I just know how to do when posting entries), but not on a forum. I AM so completely clueless.
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[mistojen]

I'm glad you liked it! I'll post more later.

on LJ the code is <*a href="insert url here">insert what you want the link to say here</*a>

on here [*url=insert url here]insert link text here[/*url]

All you do is remove the *s. Pretty easy
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avatar: Plastic!Winchester Theater by anteka @ LJ; icon by me
sig by AlcoholicPixie

[mistojen]

Last Call


I wake up and look around. It takes me a minute before I can fully take in the darkness of my surroundings and gather that I’m in Charlie’s room. Actually, to be specific, I’m in Charlie’s bed and he’s stirring a little beside me. I’m still fully clothed, but for my shoes and socks, and Charlie’s in a pair of boxer shorts that I’m pretty sure Mason gave him.

Quickly coming to the conclusion that nothing sexual has occurred, I gently touch Charlie’s shoulder and shake him a little, speaking his name until he opens his eyes.

“All right, Shannon?” he asks with a yawn.

“Why am I here?” I ask him bluntly. Let’s skip the bulls*** and find out what’s going on, shall we?

Charlie smiles and closes his eyes again. “We fell asleep on the couch earlier...I woke up and it was all dark, and I didn’t want to wake you,” he says and opens his eyes again.

“So you put me in bed with you?” I ask him, raising an eyebrow.

“Your room is all the way upstairs, Shannon, and, no offense, but you’re sort of heavy-lifting, you see...” he replies with a grin. “You can go up to your room, now, if you want; I don’t care.”

“What were we doing that we fell asleep on the couch?” I ask, ignoring his option for me to leave.

Charlie slowly sits up and rolls his neck around. I hear it crack a little and cringe, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “We went on our reaps at the carnival and when we came home, we talked for a long while,” he says.

“I remember that part,” I reply a little impatiently.

“And then Mason came by,” Charlie says, “to make sure you were all right...”

“I remember that, too,” I reply.

Charlie takes a deep breath and lets it out in a yawn. “And then you and me got really pissed and fell asleep watching television after he went home.”

“Pissed?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Drunk, Shannon,” he replies, a little annoyed that I didn’t pick up his British slang.

I nod. “Oh.”

“And if it’s all the same to you,” he says, “I’d like to go back to sleep...”

“Right,” I reply, nodding, “sure.”

“Are you staying or going?” he asks as he lays back down.

My eyelids are feeling kind of heavy, actually, and I realize how tired I am. “I don’t feel like moving...” I admit sheepishly.

Charlie smiles. “All right, then, love, come here.” He raises an arm in the air to give me space to cuddle up to him. I know that’s what he’s doing, because Mason does it, too. I hesitate. “Promise not to cop a feel,” he yawns and smiles tiredly at me. “I’ll behave. I always do,” he adds, and it’s true.

So, with a smile on my face, I lay back down and scoot back on the bed so that I’m up against him and Charlie drops his arm down over my middle. I feel him move my hair so that it’s up on the pillow and not down around my shoulders and back, in his face, and then I feel him relax against me, and only a few seconds later, I hear his breathing soften. He’s gone back to sleep. Well, then, I think I’ll join him.



At Der Waffle Haus the next morning, Mason is acting strangely. I sit down beside him as Roxie vacates the seat. “What’s wrong?” I whisper. Charlie takes a seat beside Rube, across the table from us.

Mason looks over at me and frowns. His eyes roam back to Rube and then return to me and there’s something very sad and afraid in them. Does Rube know about Steven Smith...?

I look over at Rube and he’s securing a rubber band around his book. “No Post-its today, Rube?” Charlie asks before I can.

Rube looks at Charlie, then me, and then his eyes rest on Mason. He’s frowning. “Just one.”

“Nothing for us?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as Rube nudges Charlie out of the booth and stands.

“Just Mason,” he repeats gravely and reaches up to massage his forehead with one hand before starting away.

“...what...?” I start.

Rube turns back. “Mason.”

Mason looks up at him with tired eyes and a broken smile.

“It’s been...interesting,” Rube says and smiles a little. “Take your time. You’ve got all day. I’ll be seeing you.”

The two men lock eyes and Mason nods a little. Rube tries to smile against the frown that’s coming over his lips, nods once, looks down, and turns, walking out of the waffle house.

“What was that all about, mate?” Charlie asks, looking a little confused.

Mason doesn’t say anything, but he empties his pockets, putting wads of crumpled up cash on the table and then presses his Post-it down, sliding it toward Charlie. He doesn’t look either of us in the eye.

Charlie and I exchange glances and I raise my eyebrows at him, prodding him to look at the Post-it and see what it could possibly say that has Mason so down in the dumps.

Brow furrowed slightly, Charlie picks up the Post-it as Mason crosses his arms on the table and rests his head, face down, on them.

“Well?” I ask when Charlie just stares at the paper with an unreadable expression for what seems like forever.

Charlie frowns and looks up at me. “I think it’s Last Call,” he says slowly.

“Last Call? No way,” I reply, snatching the Post-it from him. Charlie looks down at his hands as he laces them together on the table.

I look down at the Post-it and there is the usual name and location listed. The E.T.D. is 11:59pm and then at the very bottom in smaller print, but equally capital letters, in Rube’s neat hand-writing it says

(QUOTA REACHED.)

I look up from the Post-it sharply and over at Mason. “This is it?” I ask, voice squeaking. “That’s...all?”

Mason turns his head on his arms and looks at me. I can see that while Charlie and I were looking at his assignment, he’s been crying. “That’s it, darling,” he whispers.

“Well what’s it mean, exactly?” Charlie asks. No one ever really explained the Last Call to Charlie, because he’s so new, he’s bound to be lightyears away from his own. The only reason I even know about it, is because Mason explained it to me after Steven Smith, and how he was afraid that what we’d done would be the result of his own Last Call. Charlie knows what a Last Call is, I mean, but he just doesn’t really understand.

“It means this is his last reap,” I croak.

“And then what? He takes Rube’s place as foreman, or...?” Charlie prompts.

I will myself not to start crying. “And then he’s done, Charlie.”

“Done...?”

“I cross over, mate,” Mason says, looking up at Charlie. “This is the last hurrah. Get it? No more Mason.”

The look on Charlie’s face at the words “no more Mason” tells me that the reality of it has registered. Charlie gets it. His eyes go a little wide and he, too, looks saddened.

“I, er...have a lesson...” Charlie says slowly, frowning. He wants to give us time alone, but he doesn’t want Mason to think that he doesn’t care. He’s lying; it’s Saturday. Charlie doesn’t give lessons on Saturdays. ...but I do. “I’ll see you at your class, Shannon?”

I nod a little. “Yeah,” I reply airily.

“Can I come?” Mason asks. This is the first time Mason has ever shown any interest in coming to my ballet class.

“Of course you can,” I whisper. Charlie takes this cue and nods at us, sliding out of the booth and leaving us alone. “Mason...”

“I’m so sorry, Shannon,” he says, sitting up again and looking me in the eye. “I’m so sorry for everything. I want you to promise me something, darling.”

“Anything,” I reply, too shocked, still, by the news to reply with anything else.

“F*** the periphery. Don’t get upset over stupid things...and, by God, make the most of this experience. Don’t make the mistakes that I did. Enjoy this while you can, Shannon. You have a second chance at living life. Don’t f*** it up, like I did.”

Kiffany comes to the table to take my order and when I look at her, her jaw slackens a little. She can see that Mason has been crying and that I’ve started to.

I bite my lip and look down as a tear slips down my cheek. “Can I just have some water, please, Kiffany?” I ask her, barely audible even to myself.

With wide eyes, Kiffany nods and leaves us.

Mason looks me in the eye when I turn back to him. “Promise me, Shannon.”

I can feel my chin quivering. “I promise.” It occurs to me, as I touch his face and he touches mine, that I’ve wasted a lot of the time I had with Mason being angry with him for stupid things. Is that what he meant? We fought almost as much as we were civil and we were romantic even less than that. If I could turn back time, I would, and I would’ve treated Mason better. I wouldn’t have gotten so angry with him over such trivial things. I certainly wouldn’t have kissed Charlie. Ever. At all. Not even the little platonic pecks...because I wouldn’t have wanted Mason to do the same with George or Daisy, if they were still around.

Kiffany returns and puts down a cup of water and a small pack of tissues on the table. I look away from Mason for a second and up at her, smiling against the crippling pain I feel inside. “Thanks, Kiffany.”

“Thank you, Kif,” Mason speaks up. “Don’t work too hard,” he adds.

“Are you going away?” Kiffany asks him bluntly.

Mason smiles weakly and then it morphs into a frown. “Yeah, Kif. I’m going away.”

“For a long time?”

I brush away a tear with one of the tissues Kiffany has left at the table.

“Yeah,” Mason says softly, “real long time.”

“Take care of yourself, then,” Kiffany says with a small smile. “I’ll miss you around here.”

“I’ll miss being here, too, Kiffany,” Mason says softly and Kiffany gives him one last smile, then walks away.
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avatar: Plastic!Winchester Theater by anteka @ LJ; icon by me
sig by AlcoholicPixie

[PsychoCynic]

NOOOOOO!!!! NOT MASON!

Well, if he's going to have to go, can you at least really, really drag out his last day. Pretty please?!

Sorry, I'm still upset over Mason.

Desperately seeking next chapter.
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[mistojen]

[mistojen]

[SuperKC]

[mistojen]

...but it isn't, because...I can't go on writing this thing FOREVER, you know, KC

Thanks for the compliments on my characterizations on Rube and Roxie (although I think it's spelled "Roxy" and thus, I fail)
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avatar: Plastic!Winchester Theater by anteka @ LJ; icon by me
sig by AlcoholicPixie

[mistojen]

Sorry about the long wait!


Don't Wait



My class is nearly over when Mason finally shows up. Charlie has, by now, become so comfortable with the girls (and they, with him) that he stands and watches over their progress so I can greet Mason.

"Hello, darling," Mason whispers sadly in my ear as he wraps his arms around me and presses his lips to my forehead.

I smile a little. "Glad you could make it," I say softly.

"Miss Shannon, Charlie's goofing off again," Amy calls out sounding simultaneously amused and annoyed.

"What? No, I'm not!" Charlie rebuffs quickly, smiling.

"Mason, you can sit on that bench, there," I say, pointing, "I better take over again."

Nodding, Mason takes a seat and I relieve Charlie of my class. Charlie goes and sits down beside Mason to watch.

"Okay, second position...grande plie," I instruct.

"Miss Shannon, who's that?" Emma asks as she dips down into the plie, arms in a circle over her head.

"Yeah, is that your real boyfriend, Miss Shannon?" Amy asks as she gracefully comes out of her position, placing a hand back on the bar.

"Yes," I reply, "that's Mason---" I start to give them another instruction when the girls all interrupt me.

"Hi Mason!" they all coo.

"Hello girls," he replies awkwardly when they start to giggle.

"Miss Shannon likes boys with accents," one of the girls whispers, giggling airily.

"All right," I call out to regain their attention. "Once more through the positions."

Emma, always ever-the-bold one, asks, "if that's your boyfriend, how come he's never been here before?" She pauses in first position, checking her posture in the mirror before moving on to second.

"Because, I think girls are icky," Mason jokes and blushes slightly when the girls all giggle in response.

Amy, as always, looks unamused. "Why, really?"

Mason's grin fades. "None of your bloo--"

"He just wanted to see a class before he goes away, all right?" I ask defensively. Why I'm defending Mason's previous absence to a bunch of ten-year-olds is beyond me. Actually, scratch that. I think I'm more trying to convince myself than my students. I guess I never really thought about it 'til now.

"Where's he going?" one of the girls asks.

"Just...away," I reply.

She shrugs and then goes into third position. "Well, aren't you going, too?"

"Miss Shannon can't go!" another girl wails, "no way!"

"I'm not going away," I reassure her and I feel a lump in my throat. I wish I could go where Mason is going...the life of a Grim Reaper will be so much more grim without him.

Amy puts herself in fifth position and looks away from her reflection in the mirror, turning her eyes on me. "Are you okay, Miss Shannon?" she asks, concerned.

"I'm fine," I lie, "and...finish," I tell them and the girls all go back to first position and plie gracefully. "Thank you for another wonderful class, ladies. You're free to go."

Some of the girls hurry out the door. Emma dawdles a little, grinning cheekily at Charlie and Mason as she goes. "Have a nice trip," she tells Mason.

"Yeah, thanks," he replies quietly to Emma's retreating back.

Amy approaches me and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her head on my chest, and hugs me. When she pulls away and looks up at me, she smiles. "He'll come back for you, Miss Shannon," she says confidently, "don't worry."

Before I can reply, she waves at Charlie and Mason, and then leaves the room.



After a late dinner at Der Waffle Haus, Charlie stays behind while Mason and I head back to my house.

While we lay together in my bed, post our last bedroom encounter, Mason holds me close and strokes my hair as I try not to cry. It's eleven o'clock. We don't even have an entire hour left.

"Shannon," he whispers, sliding his hand down my hair and to the small of my back.

I look up at him.

"I want you to know that I love you and I always, always will," he whispers.

A single tear slides down my cheek and I brush it away, nodding. "I love you, too, Mason," I reply in a choked voice.

"And I will wait for you," Mason continues as though I've said nothing at all, "but please, please don't wait for me."

I furrow my brow slightly, confused.

"You're going to be here a long time," he explains, "don't miss out on your second chance, waiting for me. When your Last Call comes, I'll be waiting for you, wherever I am...but I want you to enjoy what you have, so..." he pauses and frowns a little. "Don't wait for me. Be in love again."

Then, before I can fully decipher Mason's awkward wording, he kisses me and sits up. "I've got to go, now."

"I'm coming with you," I insist, sitting up.

Mason doesn't argue. "And Charlie?" he asks.

"Will meet us there," I reply as the two of us get dressed again.

Nodding, Mason looks over at me. "Then we say our goodbyes now," he tells me, "and spare him."

I blink once and frown. "I'm going to miss you so much..." I tell him honestly, "I don't know what I'm going to do...without you..."

Mason approaches me and wraps me in his arms. "You'll be okay," he says, "I know you will."

The clock reads quarter after and Mason's reap is on the other side of town. We have to leave now or he will be late.

And so, we go and as I drive the two of us to Mason's last reap, I find myself reflecting on Amy's words. I think she's right. I think, someday, Mason will come back for me. At least...I hope he will and I'm going to cling to it, because hope is all I'll have, now, when Mason goes.

Hope will keep me going; help me through the mourning period.

I cling to that hope, because that hope will be my saving grace.

So, as I pull up to a deserted lake, parking the Mustang, I look over at Mason.

"Well," he says as he looks away from a young guy having a loud, drunken conversation with Charlie on the dock. Mason turns his head and looks into my eyes. "Here goes everything, darling."

I nod, frowning. My sentiments exactly, Mason, I think to myself. Here goes everything.
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avatar: Plastic!Winchester Theater by anteka @ LJ; icon by me
sig by AlcoholicPixie

[SuperKC]