The long kiss -Goodbye- [Jett Standalone]

Even though "I want to be loved" in my own way, it fills me, but I can't see you
I just have the feeling that I'll never see you again...
I want to tell you that, but I can't find the right words
Maybe it's okay if I lie, but I can't even say "Don't go away"

Where am I?

The world's spinning, tilting sideways as I feel myself tumbling and tumbling. The ground rushes up to meet me and it hits me with a numb, yet resounding thud! A strangles groan escapes my lips as the world swims around me. My vision rolls to my side, too see the bottle of bitter poison clutched in my hand. The sight of it makes me force a smile, the golden liquid of the god's swirls in the cool, glass container like a tidal wave. A collage of gold (brown, green, purple, whatever). I can't tell if it's just the liquid swirling in the bottle of just my vision swimming.

I don't care.

I drag myself and prop myself against the random brick wall. It's hard surface is strangely welcoming despite being as cool as snow. I uncork the bottle with my trembling hand and bring it to my lips, allowing the burning poison from the god's to swirl down my throat. The taste of it makes me retch, it's so bitter, like someone's poured molten lava in a bottle and decided to call it drink. The liquid is fire, scorching my throat and leaving behind it's vile mark, and yet it finds its way down my gullet.

Nasty.

I didn't used to drink. I swear, this is a first. Never touched this stuff, I thought it was an evil poison - only meant to burn, destroy, turn a good man evil. I love it, it's what I need - you're all I need. This golden liquid fire is a godsend. I'm doing for... for... what was his name?

"T-taurus, his name w-was Taaauuuuurusssss." My speech is slurred, less together than my vision. That was his name, I swear it was. He was my... my... "Broootherrrr." That's a... a... ssssibling? I swear that's the word. Sibling, he was my brother and my sibling. "Where are you Taurus?!" I call out but I'm only met with the echo of my voice voice bouncing back at me. I look to the sky, pitch black and nothing but shadow. Darker than black. The shadows threaten to wrap around me with their evil tendils, gonna choke the life outta me like T-t... Taauurrrussss. Yea, that's the name...

The memory is still there, still in the back of my mind and as inevitable as night and day.

"Jett, you need to see this." My boss told me, but I was too busy, hammering metal, doing what I do best. Forging. I kept hammering, not giving a bloody care in the world. I kept hammering. "I'm working." I told him, not even turning to look at him. Before the reaping I never would've dare done that or he would've given me a right earful... Or face full with his fists depending on what mood he was in. But he'd become more understanding, been more tolerant of my mood - Taurus was fighting, living, breathing. Maybe there was hope but I wasn't big on it. Maybe that's why I was more willing to to be so disrespectful - but as expected he didn't even get angry, he didn't shout but I still heard his response clear as day.

"It's your brother."

And then we're frozen, those words hang in the air longer than time itself. For an age. I stop mid swing and let my arm fall to my side and I slowly put the hammer down, letting it rest on the table. Everything's in slow motion I spin around, taking long, fast strides towards were the television is. Where the games are showing, to where Taurus is fighting, living, breathing. He could come home, he could fight on, he's there, he's doing something. And I'm fucking working not giving a damn care in the world.

He's...

The moment I burst into the room the boy from eight's axe comes down.

Falling...

Everything takes an age to move. He falls slower than a feather, blood gashing out of his arm like a fountain of red. My jaw drops, seeing his arms and legs riddled with red smiles, grinning at me in cruel mockery.

Dying...

He hits the floor and my heart thuds against my ribcage like a hammer.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

BANG!

Everything speeds up, before I know it the one who slew my brother is banished to the grave by the boy from twelve, who is then sent to his early death by another boy. But my eyes are still wide, they see it all, still fixated on the cannon, the dead boy from nine. My sibling. My boss didn't say anything at the sight of my clenched fists he knew he had to send me home with a pat on the back and a sorry.

None of it meant a damn thing.

I'm sobbing, warm waterfalls rush down my cheeks and soak into my booze, sodden clothes. I put the ice cold bottle to my lips as more poison finds its way down my gullet. I wipe the drink off my lips with my sleeve and hoist myself up. The world still spins faster than a roundabout (a roundabout we all used to play on, I remember) and I stumble forwards, leaning on the wall to keep me steady.

Each step towards home brings about another wave of nausea, another memory, another bitter feeling. I sniffle and keep dragging myself forwards, my trembling legs carrying me. Home... Gotta... Get... Home? Is it even home any more? There's no more Taurus, we're incomplete, a jigsaw without another piece. And what's the point in having a jigsaw missing a piece? Might as well just throw it away.

That's all we are now... broke and incomplete.

Jabber Jay; Butchered like bird on hunting season.

Storm Jay.; Cut down to oblivion.

Taurus Hawk; Banished to the morgue like them all other broken things.

All of them dead, all of them rotting in the ground with nothing but a canon to remember them by.

Gone...

________

I stumble into my home.

I don't even have time to turn on the light, I hit the deck and then everything's a blur.

________

My eye flicker open and a wave of fresh agony hits me like a truck. I'm welcomed to the sight of my floor. I groan and struggle and pick myself up slowly. I take a glance outside and the darkness is still gracing my window. I grab onto the table and pull my self up. The bottle, I'm still holding the bottle. I take a quick sip and begin lurching forwards. I don't feel that drunk anymore. Still, my head screams at me, radiating pure agony and threatening to tear itself open.

I'm faced by myself in the mirror and I recoil at what I am. A once growing stubble has exploded into a full on, beard. Once jett black hair that ringed my hair is matted with red and brown, remains of the dirty street I dragged in with me. I'm pale as a ghost, whiter than my bed sheets. Bags hang under my eyes, a permanent reminder of my lack of sleep. I'm a distorted, grotesque image of my former self - am I even a Hawk.

Hawk...

Taurus...

Rotting...

Coffin...

I bring my hands up and bury my face in them, trembling uncontrollably but holding back sobs. Clio... Help me... No one's hear.

Mum.

Dad.

Clio.

Thunder.

Mum and Dad will be out, working themselves.

Thunder...

"THUNDER!" I call out, looking around but he must be asleep.

I walk back and plunk myself on a chair by the table where my vision rests on a white sheet of paper. I raise a an eyebrow, grabbing it and resting my eyes on it. I flick on the table lamp, making it visible.

Isn't that... Thunder's writing?

I place the bottle on the table next to me and begin to read.

Jett,
By the time you'll read this, I'll probably be long gone. Don't worry about me. I'll be alright. I just can't be here. First jabber, then storm, now Taurus. I just want to escape. I can't stare at his room. The house. Their ghosts haunt me, and I can't deal with it. I swear they're trying to kill me. I try to find the good in the dark, but I can't. Each time I close my eyes, I see them. I see them lingering on the corners. Jett, I was the reason Taurus was arrested and sent to the detention center. It's my fault he's dead, and I can't deal with it. He saved me. He killed someone to save me, and then he was sent away forever. He won't ever be here anymore. I don't know where I'm going or where I'll be, but please don't come looking for me. I don't want nobody else to die because of me. Jabber died. Storm died. Now Taurus is dead. I might as well killed him. I can't. I don't wanna ruin anyone else. Please don't come find me. I beg you. Jett, don't forget that you're my brother and I'll always love you. I just need you to understand that this is for our own good. Maybe I'll see you soon.
Thunder

SMASH!!!

The bottle explodes against the wall and glass shards fly everywhere faster than latch crab shrapnel. They lay strewn across the floor and before I know it the they come up to meet me and I'm on my hands and knees, the letter clenched firmly in my fists. White hot pain pierces my my hands and I fight the urge to cry out in pain. He... As if trying to comprehend what happened, I look to the floor and all I see is a collage of crimson and glass strewn across the floor and flowing out of my hands.

Bloody hand prints decorate the floor and despite the stains I read the letter about twice over before crunching it into a bloody ball in my wounded hands.

I shakily stand up and stride to the fire place, ignoring feet that are now riddled with red gashes. Enough of what I feel, it's what must be done.

________

The cold licks my wounds hungrily, freezing them and making my wince with pain but it had to be done.

The pile isn't very huge, clothes, shoes, socks, possessions... All in one pile and stained in the blood of his brother.

Good bye brother.

I kept one thing... One thing that wouldn't burn one thing that I couldn't burn. Because it was mine. It used to wasn't worth much, wasn't even real silver, and yet it still shined proudly on my wrists when I wore it. A watch. I loaned it to Taurus but I never got it back, but I eventually just forgot about it.

Until now.

It's broken, the face cracked and it refuses to move on. Time is still. Constantly trying and yet failing to move on, constant half ticks and that's all it can muster. Just broken. My own blood stains it but it still remains latched onto my wrist.

It must be done.

I pick up the match and strike it, allowing the brilliant yet orange flame to lick the air around me, the flames licking the bleeding wounds on my hands. I put the flames onto the gasoline filled stick that I coated with old, flammable clothes that I also dipped in gasoline and it also bursts into flames, shining brilliantly in a flare or red and orange.

Good bye fallen brother.

I release.

The blaze hungrily and greedily devours the memories of what was a Hawk, my own kin who lived and died for his family. I stand there, eyes fixated on the flames the cackle and greedily devour the ghost of my brother. You did this, you chased him away, it was all you! I have to move it, I have to keep time moving forward unlike the watch. I can't keep... I can't keep...

Suddenly a strong breeze hits me full force, sending the ashes out of the pile. However, one thing catches my eye and I can't help but reach out and grab it. Is that another piece of paper?

I'm about to feed it to the flame but the writing, the barely readable writing catches my eye.

I'm sorry for breaking your watch brother, didn't know how else to tell you.

I clench my jaw as a fresh wave of bitter tears run down my cheeks. My bottom lips trembles uncontrollably.

Because of you, it won't move on because of you.

No, I won't move on because of you.

It's never going to move on again.

I stuff the note back in my pocket and turn my back to the flames, leaving the ghost of my fallen kinsman to feed the fire all through the night.

Jabber Jay; Butchered like a bird during hunting season.

Storm Jay; Cut down to oblivion.

Taurus Hawk; Banished to an early grave.

Thunder Hawk; Chased away by the ghosts of the fallen.

And then there's me.