neither of us will be // [holo!chad series]

When I first got switched on I cried so hard I nearly threw up on the poor little girl who'd only come to say, hello. Her name was Keiko and she gave very good hugs for someone who was so much smaller than me. I tried to save the handkerchief she'd lent me, but the next time I woke up there was someone else asking me about what it felt like to get stabbed in the eye—I guess when you die you don't get to have handkerchiefs.

Which seems like a strange and specific rule for the "afterlife" thing  that this is to have, but I've got it jotted down on my palm so I don't forget.

I've been forgetting a lot these days. My thoughts don't really feel like my own, like maybe when they copied me over I accidentally got just a little bit crumpled in the machine. I'm a big guy with big arms, I wouldn't be surprised if I jammed the printer, you know?

"Do you?" I ask the guy with a fancy tie who hadn't said a word since he came to talk to me. "Do you think maybe that's what happened to me? People in ties know things. "Because I don't and it'd be really cool if someone explained it to me, please?"

He never explained. But he did ask a question I found confusing: "So did you actually believe you would make it home?" And then he laughed and showed me a binder of all the reasons I was so stupid to believe I ever would. It had a title and everything—it was really very fancy and had all sorts of different colored labels and plastic sleeve covers and even glitter to keep you focused. I like shiny things was actually an entire page in the binder.

But as nice as it was, I don't think it helped me. Most people smile and ask for a photograph, show me the business card they designed for my moving service, challenge me to an arm wrestling match. Those days aren't so bad.

And then there are the days that someone asks about Aspen Peake and what it was like to be killed by her. Or if dying for Nora was worth it. Or if Love scared me.

"I mean, she clearly did a good job, right? Eye- punny, yeah? Yes, eye would rate her stab a ten out of ten for sure. You know how that one dentist always holds out on that one brand of toothpaste? Yeah, they would all recommend Aspen Peake I think. Sorry, eye think."

"She's my friend. Actually, um, maybe if you see her next you could apologize for me? I didn't- mean to uh- hmm. What's a good way to say, 'Sorry that my body nearly crushed you when I died?' Because I have no idea how to apologize for that, but I really need her to know. Are flowers good? Wait, can I even give people flowers?"

"Yeah, he's got really hard knuckles, like damnrnm- damn, I'll stick with damn. My apologies for cursing in front of your son, but it's necessary to prove my point and a friend of mine says it's cool so forgive me -he hits really damn hard. You could probably hit me harder though, give it go!"

And then sometimes they ask about Gavin. And I remember I still have a promise to keep. And I try to leave. To go home.

But I'm still here.

I miss him so much.

I love him so damn much.

And I hope I never see him again.

But I can't stop myself from wanting to be with him.

Always.

It gnaws at me, clawing until all I can stand to think about is him and the way his fingertips feel on my jawline and the way his hair smells like our soap and when he smiles he practically glows- just picture, the best most comforting, guiding, warm, most beautiful night light you could ever have as a kid and then let it hug you, let it hold you and squeeze until you feel like nothing can ever hurt you, nothing could ever touch you and you'll never even know what it feels like to hurt or feel pain or be scared even a little—and then put your confidence at a ten and conquer your fears because you can. You will.

That's my Gav. That's him.

And I never wanted to see him again.

But I'm so damn, fucking happy he's here.

"Hi.

I know I can't really breathe, not for real or whatever, but it sure feels close to like he took my breath away. Just standing. Just being.

Gavin.

"i saw you in a dream, you had stayed the same."