Brodie Jay Bradford (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lostinthefairytale) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
muserevival2014-01-31 06:10 pm
lostinthefairytale) wrote in muserevival2014-01-31 06:10 pm
054.1. Muse prompt
"Say something, I'm giving up on you
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you
Anywhere I would've followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you"
- Say Something, A Great Big World
It was over 11 hours drive from New York City to Charleston in South Carolina, but it was some time alone that Brodie used to think. Think a lot. More than he had let himself think ever since he got that phone call that Asher was dead. He told Caleb he was going, and of course, Caleb wasn't going to let him go on such a long trip on his own. But this was something Brodie needed to do, and he needed to do it on his own. He left just after lunch and made it back home around midnight. The cold was sobering, and he drove the last leg of the trip with the window down a little, the icy air blowing in his face, keeping him awake but also reminding him of the reality of what he was doing.
His actions probably seemed crazy to some, but that's exactly what he felt like he was at the moment. But whatever he did, it didn't matter what anyone thought about it. His time was running out, and he had to do what he could, and when he could. He might never see tomorrow, and although that was a terrifying thought inside, there was nothing he could do to change it. He was dying. Before long, he was going to be in the ground right in this very place, and maybe to think of it like that, it wasn't so crazy after all.
It was a gorgeous cemetery, he couldn't deny that. It had a peaceful feel to it, lots of lovely trees and gardens surrounding it. He got out of his car, feet crunching in the gravel of the drive below. He collected his gloves, scarf and warm hat from his car and paused beside it to pull them on, looping the scarf around his neck and automatically tying it how Asher showed him was the most stylish all those years ago. He was still shivering. Right now, he felt cold all the time. The best winter clothing, blankets, heating, it didn't seem to work anymore.
It was weird when he was standing there beside his car in the parking lot lit by the lights above, which continued throughout the main path of the cemetery and into the memorial gardens. He had this overwhelming feeling like he was being watched. It even sent a chill down his spine and goosebumps prickled his skin. He was the only car there, of course. Most people who be poised to piss their pants in a graveyard at night. But what was the worst that could happen? He got murdered? Cancer was already killing him, so what did it matter?
With his hands stuff deep into the pockets of his long coat, Brodie made his way through the cemetery. He was walking slowly, shoulders slumped. Tucked under his arm was a bouquet of red and white roses. He couldn't help but wonder where he would be buried in this place when the time came. Would all his old friends come and gather around, holding onto each other for deal life while they sobbed, crushed, that one of their own was gone forever just like they had at Asher's funeral? Would it be different for them if they knew it was coming? It was going to get to a point where he had to tell everyone he had cancer, was dying. They deserved to know. It was selfish keeping it from, but he hadn't known how to deal with anything at first, and denial seemed to be a good place to be.
He came to the memorial gardens, and just at the end of the second row, with a beautiful rose bush not currently in bloom was growing by the last plot in the row. Coming to stand in front of it, Brodie closed his eyes for a long few moments, his arm hugging around the roses in lieu of anything else to hold onto. Anyone else... Asher's plaque was pristine and there were fresh flowers there. His family and friends remaining in Charleston had vowed at his funeral to keep it beautiful for him, that anything else wouldn't do. Brodie still remembered that day like it was yesterday. He had been so devastated and distraught that he was physically sick, over by the wall behind him. The horror of losing Asher got too much. That was the day he truly broke, and had never been the same since.
Soon, he sat down in front of the memorial and crossed his legs, leaning so he could place the bouquet on the grass in front of the plaque. "I can't do this anymore," he confessed softly, gazing at Asher's name etched in the brass. "I tried, I really did. I thought that with them saying there was this... this chance you might still be alive, that I could wait as long as it took for you to come back to me. But you haven't. You won't, and I can't do it. I'm so tired. Life has just, well... it's gotten too hard, baby. Maybe I can't do it without you. Maybe that's why I got sick, because I can't come up with any other reason why this had to happen to me."
He teared up, lower lip trembling as he glanced away and pushed his fingertips under the rim of his glasses to wipe the tears that fell away. More just came, though. Of course they would. "You know, honestly, I sort of get now how Juliet felt when she was going to lose Romeo. Not that I would have ever had the balls to take my own life. Death, it... it really scares me. If you did that to yourself, I don't understand how things here couldn't have just been enough for you. But I don't know anything. I don't know if you were murdered, or you took your own life. I don't even know what happened to your body. I never managed to ask. I tried many times, but every time I did, I choked up and couldn't speak. Maybe hearing that would have been so final and cut off any chances of hope."
"But I... I never stopped loving you," he whispered shakily, his voice failing with how choked up with he emotion he was. "And I never will. Not when this thing finally kills me and I'm not here anymore. I always wanted to be the first to die, you know. It sounds stupid, but in my head, we would be both old and in an nursing home, false teeth, bald, grandpa pants, the whole deal. But I would die first, because I couldn't imagine living for one moment without you. And you know what? Trying to has sucked. I think I even hated you for a few split moments there, for not staying alive so we could be together. We were meant to fucking be together. Forever. Even when we were dead, we were supposed to be together in the afterlife, if that even exists. You know something stupid? I waited for your ghost to come visit, and hang with me all Patrick Swayze like. I can see your smirk in my head when I say that, because you would have been quietly mocking me inside for thinking something so cheesy. But I did. I was even jealous of Demi Moore. I haven't exactly been very sane since you went..."
He pushed his glasses up onto his head and then leaned over, putting his face in his hands when a soft sob broke the silence in the memorial garden. This next part was going to be the hardest thing he ever did in his life, and he didn't know how he was supposed to do this and just walk away. The heels of his hands were roughly pushed over his eyes, wiping away the dampness there. "I-I have to say goodbye," he said hoarsely, the words choked and feeling like they were catching up in his throat. "I'm sorry I let you down and made you feel like we weren't worth fighting for. I'm sorry I wasn't what you needed and more. I'm sorry I wasn't there how you needed me to be. I'm sorry I let you slip away and didn't know how to fight for you. But I didn't know how to live for you, and now I know even less how to die for you. So, I have to do this. You aren't there anymore, you're not coming back. You're gone. I love you. I love you so much that I finally have to walk away," he finally ended and pressed his fist to his mouth, bracing himself and waiting to get the burst of strength he needed to stand up and walk away without looking back.
Which is exactly what he did, though he was so weakened by exhaustion and emotion that he stumbled at the base of the memorial, legs feeling too tired to hold him. Suddenly a pair of familiar arms circled around him, catching him before he fell. His head whipped around, terror slicing through him, and there was Asher. Standing right there, holding him and there would have been absolutely no preparing him for that. "No, you don't..." were Asher smooth words, and that was all well and good, but Brodie, absolutely rigid with fear, screamed so loud it echoed right through the cemetery right before shock won over and he passed out cold, the scream dying on his lips.
Brodie Bradford // Original Character
I'm sorry that I couldn't get to you
Anywhere I would've followed you
Say something, I'm giving up on you"
- Say Something, A Great Big World
It was over 11 hours drive from New York City to Charleston in South Carolina, but it was some time alone that Brodie used to think. Think a lot. More than he had let himself think ever since he got that phone call that Asher was dead. He told Caleb he was going, and of course, Caleb wasn't going to let him go on such a long trip on his own. But this was something Brodie needed to do, and he needed to do it on his own. He left just after lunch and made it back home around midnight. The cold was sobering, and he drove the last leg of the trip with the window down a little, the icy air blowing in his face, keeping him awake but also reminding him of the reality of what he was doing.
His actions probably seemed crazy to some, but that's exactly what he felt like he was at the moment. But whatever he did, it didn't matter what anyone thought about it. His time was running out, and he had to do what he could, and when he could. He might never see tomorrow, and although that was a terrifying thought inside, there was nothing he could do to change it. He was dying. Before long, he was going to be in the ground right in this very place, and maybe to think of it like that, it wasn't so crazy after all.
It was a gorgeous cemetery, he couldn't deny that. It had a peaceful feel to it, lots of lovely trees and gardens surrounding it. He got out of his car, feet crunching in the gravel of the drive below. He collected his gloves, scarf and warm hat from his car and paused beside it to pull them on, looping the scarf around his neck and automatically tying it how Asher showed him was the most stylish all those years ago. He was still shivering. Right now, he felt cold all the time. The best winter clothing, blankets, heating, it didn't seem to work anymore.
It was weird when he was standing there beside his car in the parking lot lit by the lights above, which continued throughout the main path of the cemetery and into the memorial gardens. He had this overwhelming feeling like he was being watched. It even sent a chill down his spine and goosebumps prickled his skin. He was the only car there, of course. Most people who be poised to piss their pants in a graveyard at night. But what was the worst that could happen? He got murdered? Cancer was already killing him, so what did it matter?
With his hands stuff deep into the pockets of his long coat, Brodie made his way through the cemetery. He was walking slowly, shoulders slumped. Tucked under his arm was a bouquet of red and white roses. He couldn't help but wonder where he would be buried in this place when the time came. Would all his old friends come and gather around, holding onto each other for deal life while they sobbed, crushed, that one of their own was gone forever just like they had at Asher's funeral? Would it be different for them if they knew it was coming? It was going to get to a point where he had to tell everyone he had cancer, was dying. They deserved to know. It was selfish keeping it from, but he hadn't known how to deal with anything at first, and denial seemed to be a good place to be.
He came to the memorial gardens, and just at the end of the second row, with a beautiful rose bush not currently in bloom was growing by the last plot in the row. Coming to stand in front of it, Brodie closed his eyes for a long few moments, his arm hugging around the roses in lieu of anything else to hold onto. Anyone else... Asher's plaque was pristine and there were fresh flowers there. His family and friends remaining in Charleston had vowed at his funeral to keep it beautiful for him, that anything else wouldn't do. Brodie still remembered that day like it was yesterday. He had been so devastated and distraught that he was physically sick, over by the wall behind him. The horror of losing Asher got too much. That was the day he truly broke, and had never been the same since.
Soon, he sat down in front of the memorial and crossed his legs, leaning so he could place the bouquet on the grass in front of the plaque. "I can't do this anymore," he confessed softly, gazing at Asher's name etched in the brass. "I tried, I really did. I thought that with them saying there was this... this chance you might still be alive, that I could wait as long as it took for you to come back to me. But you haven't. You won't, and I can't do it. I'm so tired. Life has just, well... it's gotten too hard, baby. Maybe I can't do it without you. Maybe that's why I got sick, because I can't come up with any other reason why this had to happen to me."
He teared up, lower lip trembling as he glanced away and pushed his fingertips under the rim of his glasses to wipe the tears that fell away. More just came, though. Of course they would. "You know, honestly, I sort of get now how Juliet felt when she was going to lose Romeo. Not that I would have ever had the balls to take my own life. Death, it... it really scares me. If you did that to yourself, I don't understand how things here couldn't have just been enough for you. But I don't know anything. I don't know if you were murdered, or you took your own life. I don't even know what happened to your body. I never managed to ask. I tried many times, but every time I did, I choked up and couldn't speak. Maybe hearing that would have been so final and cut off any chances of hope."
"But I... I never stopped loving you," he whispered shakily, his voice failing with how choked up with he emotion he was. "And I never will. Not when this thing finally kills me and I'm not here anymore. I always wanted to be the first to die, you know. It sounds stupid, but in my head, we would be both old and in an nursing home, false teeth, bald, grandpa pants, the whole deal. But I would die first, because I couldn't imagine living for one moment without you. And you know what? Trying to has sucked. I think I even hated you for a few split moments there, for not staying alive so we could be together. We were meant to fucking be together. Forever. Even when we were dead, we were supposed to be together in the afterlife, if that even exists. You know something stupid? I waited for your ghost to come visit, and hang with me all Patrick Swayze like. I can see your smirk in my head when I say that, because you would have been quietly mocking me inside for thinking something so cheesy. But I did. I was even jealous of Demi Moore. I haven't exactly been very sane since you went..."
He pushed his glasses up onto his head and then leaned over, putting his face in his hands when a soft sob broke the silence in the memorial garden. This next part was going to be the hardest thing he ever did in his life, and he didn't know how he was supposed to do this and just walk away. The heels of his hands were roughly pushed over his eyes, wiping away the dampness there. "I-I have to say goodbye," he said hoarsely, the words choked and feeling like they were catching up in his throat. "I'm sorry I let you down and made you feel like we weren't worth fighting for. I'm sorry I wasn't what you needed and more. I'm sorry I wasn't there how you needed me to be. I'm sorry I let you slip away and didn't know how to fight for you. But I didn't know how to live for you, and now I know even less how to die for you. So, I have to do this. You aren't there anymore, you're not coming back. You're gone. I love you. I love you so much that I finally have to walk away," he finally ended and pressed his fist to his mouth, bracing himself and waiting to get the burst of strength he needed to stand up and walk away without looking back.
Which is exactly what he did, though he was so weakened by exhaustion and emotion that he stumbled at the base of the memorial, legs feeling too tired to hold him. Suddenly a pair of familiar arms circled around him, catching him before he fell. His head whipped around, terror slicing through him, and there was Asher. Standing right there, holding him and there would have been absolutely no preparing him for that. "No, you don't..." were Asher smooth words, and that was all well and good, but Brodie, absolutely rigid with fear, screamed so loud it echoed right through the cemetery right before shock won over and he passed out cold, the scream dying on his lips.
Brodie Bradford // Original Character