THE GOURDIAN

Universally enthusiastic chaos-artist & storyteller

Chapter 42: Bed enough

Neon sleeps in my bed now.
I’m by his side.
All the time.
Things have gone south and I don’t know what to do but be there and hope he’s in as little pain as possible.
He opens his eyes maybe three times a day.
The rest of the time I just wait.
Sit.
Think about all the things we’ve been through.
Mistakes I made.
Things I hopefully did right.
I’m not even sure why he loves me at this point.
I try not to dwell on that too much…
“Hey.” His voice is hoarse as his eyes open slowly, “What time is it?”
“About five am.”
“Did you sleep?”
“Not yet.”
“You should sleep.”
“Not yet, Steel’s out and I want someone watching over you.”
Neon sighs “Will you sleep when he gets back?”
“I’ll sleep when he gets back.”
He hums in affirmation.
“You should eat something, I have an apple I can cut up for you.”
“Will you cut it up anyway regardless of what I say?”
“Yes.” I pick the apple off the dish and pulling out a short, sharp knife start cutting out the core.
“Can you give me my bag?”
“Are you in pain?”
“Yes.”
“What do you need?”
“Just the bag, I got it.” He tries to push himself upright. I leave the apple be for a moment to help him get up.
“Thanks.”
I pick the bag off the floor, he opens it up to reveal countless little bottles filled with powders and liquids, he rummages through it for a bit, then pulls out a brown ribbed bottle and takes a swig from it.
“Better?”
“In a moment.” He closes the bottle and hands the bag back to me. He closes his eyes for a moment and sighs in relief. “How are the others?” He asks.
“Inquiry is doing test runs with the heart, your math seems to work out.”
He smiles “Of course it does.”
I chuckle at that, he should be smug like this more often, it’s cute when he does it. “I think they’re gonna do it. I just hope you’re still there to see it happen.”
Neon shrugs “I have no love for the project. I’m just glad it all ended well.”
I huff at that “For the dolls at least.”
“I think the others don’t mind this arrangement as much as they like to grumble about it.”
So everyone gets a happy ending besides you?
I want to say it, but I bite my lip instead. I focus my attention back on the apple, cutting off a piece and holding it out for him to eat.
“Thank you.” He takes it and pops it in his mouth. His face puckers “Sour.”
“Really? I thought these were sweet apples. I’m sorry I-”
“It’s okay.” his eyes soften “Tungsten?”
“Yes?”
“We should talk now”
“We’re talking already aren’t we?”
“About what I want when I’m dead-”
What!?
No!
I flatten my ears against my head and fidget with my fingers “Oh, uh- how about we-?”
“No.” His voice is soft but surprisingly commanding, he put a lot of effort behind that single syllable. “You keep shutting me down. I need you to listen to me before it’s too late. When I’m dead I want you to burn my body.”
I open my mouth but no words come out.
What am I even supposed to say at that!?
“You’ll need to make a very hot fire so ask Steel to help you. I’m…probably poison at this point.” He tries to chuckle but he lets out a cough instead “Make sure to wear a mask and stay out of the wind as you do it. I don’t want you to get sick too.” Then I want whatever’s left of me to be dumped into the sea.”
“I don’t understand, why do you want this?”
His lip quivers slightly as he speaks “Because my boyfriend is a modder and I don’t want my eyes to end up in a pendant or something.”
“I’d never-!” I put my hand on his in an attempt to calm him down, he squeezes it in response.
“Not even for yourself? Not as a keepsake or memento?”
“That’s…I-” I want to deny it but I know part of me would want to, and the tears in my throat are keeping me from explaining this mess of emotions in my stomach.
He lifts my hand with effort and brings it to his mouth. He kisses the back of it tenderly “You shouldn’t hold on to me. Not a single part of me. I’ve never felt like I was part of this world to begin with and I don’t want to be kept here.”
That’s too much
It’s far too tragic.
It’s dumb!
I crumple down at his bedside, head placed gently on the blanket. I don’t want to listen to him. I want to keep him “Not even a lock of hair?” I whine softly.
“Not even that, can you promise me that?”
I can’t say no.
There’s no way in hell I can say no.
So I tell him “I promise.” In a defeated tone.
I don’t like it.
But I understand.
“Thank you.” he cranes his neck toward me with effort and I pull myself onto the bed to kiss him. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“When you see Steel tell him he was like a father to me.”
“Tell him yourself you lazy bum.” I try to dry my eyes but somehow the tears just keep on flowing.
He smiles at me kindly.
And then he leaves.
Like the request was the only thing holding him back from calling it quits.
I pull away from him, check his pulse just to be sure.
Nothing.
Gone.
But he just looks like he’s asleep
“Neon?”
Maybe if I sit here long enough he’ll come back to yell at me.
Maybe some miracle happens like in those stupid sappy romance novels that need a happy ending just to count. And I won’t have to tell the other’s shit.
Maybe I’m just dreaming.
I pinch my arm.
Nope, not dreaming.
Then bawl my eyes out for a bit.
The anguish, fear and grief I’ve been trying to avoid for so long wash over me with a nice aftertaste of guilt at the time apart we could have spent together.
Just fucking great.
After what seems like an eternity I push myself upward and gently push his eyelids shut. Holding them down with a wad of wet cotton and then I wrap a towel around his jaw to keep his mouth from gaping.
Then I sit for a bit.
Just existing.
Wondering ‘now what?’
I need to tell the others.
I don’t want to tell the others.
That makes it extra real.
Besides, it’s five am, what’s the use of getting them up now?
I want to just sit here.
But I can’t.
“Get it together you stupid lump” I tell myself.
There’s work to be done.
I get up, take off my day clothes and replace them with the white suit I wore to the fake funeral.
I’m grateful the jacket got altered. I can’t imagine wearing it for months on end with it cutting into my waist.

I walk to the stove in the parlour, pick up an iron bucket on the way and prepare some warm water with soap. The temperature of the water doesn’t matter for comfort but it helps the soap dissolve.
I should wash him and dress him and make him ready for the…burning?
Cremation, that’s the word
When he’s all proper dressed and rigor mortis has set in the others will definitely be awake.
I peel away the blanket, remove his clothes and push a cotton rag into the soapy water.
I start with his face, neck, arms and chest. His legs and nethers need extra tending for dying reasons.
I rinse out the rag a couple of times in between and make sure to dry his skin right away.
I think I did a good job in the end.
I look at the pile of clothes lying at the foot of the bed
It’d feel weird putting his day clothes back on him again. He slept in then for days.
It’s dirty, improper.
But I doubt he brought funeral clothes.
I open his bag.
But of course, it’s just the usual bottles and powders.
I’d gift him some of my clothes but they’re far too big…
So now what?
The door opens. “So it happened then?” Steel strides in as if he owns the place.
“You could at least knock.” I huff childishly.
He places his fingers in that little nook between his jawline and his neck. “How long ago?”
“About half an hour.”
“You should dress him.”
“I know.” I grind my teeth at him.
He gets up and I only then notice the bag hanging on his shoulder, he pulls a flat, dotted box from it and hands it to me. “I’m not sure if it fits but you can just cut open the back if it doesn’t. It needs to look good at the front but it’s gonna go into the ground anyway,” he instructs me.
I open the box and find inside it a very familiar suit, white pants, white shirt, and white waistcoat.
Tears jump into my eyes.
Just when I thought I was done crying.
Fuck.
He wore this when we first met.
Ages ago.
Long before he was Neon.
Long before I became Tungsten.
My heart tightens up.
Painful memories are attached to this suit.
Painful memories with beautiful consequences and a stupid, tragic ending.
I sit down on the floor for a bit. Box by my side trying my best to calm down.
He picks up the box from the floor and starts unbuttoning the shirt. “Did he have any last words to share?”
“He’s not going into the ground.” I explain “He wants to be burned down at the docks and the ashes strewn into the sea.”
“That’s gonna take a pretty hot fire.”
“Yes, I know he uh, told me to ask your help.”
“Good. Anything else?”
I swallow “Nothing you need to know.”
“Very well, can you help lift his legs now? I think the pants would fit fine.”
Sometime later I tie his white tie a couple of times over, it’s surprisingly difficult doing it on someone else.
Then I remove the cotton wad and towel.
Comb his hair.
“What about the glasses?” I ask.
“Put them on.”
“But his eyes are closed anyway?”
“Put them on regardless, the others know him this way.”
“If you say so.” I push the glasses onto his face. “Steel?”
“Yes?”
“How did you know he was dead?”
He shrugs “I just know.”
“That’s odd.”
“Not at all, I knew when Silver died, and Mercury now I think back on it. I wonder why I didn’t realise it at the time.”
“How, how do you just know?”
“I can’t explain it, I just do.”
“Strange.”
He shrugs “You never had that?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t even know Mercury was dead until the kid came to rope me into his scheme.”
“I see.” He takes a step back “I think he looks quite dashing, what do you think?”
“I think he’s beautiful, like he’s always been beautiful to me.” A heavy hand taps me on the shoulder.
“We should go tell the others.”
I wince “Yeah…how about you do that? I haven’t slept for-” I pause for a moment to count in my head “twenty-eight hours, and I’m done.”
“Why did you stay up that long?”
“Because you weren’t there to watch over him you old geezer.”
Steel rolls his eyes at me, I ball my fists in response. “Go sleep, you silly boy. I’ll wake you when it’s time to light him up.”
I huff but I don’t argue.
I exit the room and it’s like I get punched in the chest by a steam train of fatigue.
I drag myself to the kid’s old room and crash down on the pile of blankets and pillows he left there.
It’s bed enough.
Then I sleep.
And dream about it all over again.


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