The Wilting Rose

Seamus,

I've got to explain some things to you. That's why I wrote this letter- because I couldn't say them to your face.

I know I haven't been to visit you in the Hospital Wing, and I can't lie about it- I didn't visit because I didn't really want to. Sounds selfish, but I can't lie to you- not any more.

When I found you in the grounds a couple of weeks ago, I didn't want to believe it was you. Because I was just getting used to you not being there, I didn't want you back in my life again. Even as a friend.

I'm such a bastard. You know what this is all about. It's down to me being self-centred and scared to admit that I ever loved you. Remember that night, when you were watching me sleep? I knew it then. I was so ashamed of myself afterwards that I wanted to take it all out on you, because if I believed it was your fault, it wouldn't hurt me.

But it did hurt me. You have no idea what I felt when I said "I'm not like you". It's been like a heavy weight in my chest ever since. I lied to you, and I lied to myself. And I've paid the price for doing it.

When you didn't come back from the lake, I thought you had really done it. It was more than I could take, and knowing that I was so scared because I loved you just made it worse. This is what hurts the most- when I found out that you weren't dead, I panicked about seeing you again.

I don't deserve someone like you. And you really don't deserve to be treated like this.

What happened at the lake? Did you want to drown? I keep seeing your body, limp and soaking as they pulled it out of the water in my dreams. You're haunting me and you're not even dead.

I'll admit, when I found you in the grounds again, all I wanted to do was look after you and make everything better. Do you know how much it hurt to find you in that state? I'd never seen you anything but happy- and there you were, bombed out of your head on valium or whatever it was.

This is pathetic. I don't even know what this letter means. What I wanted to say is that I do love you- always will love you- but I can't be with you.

Perhaps it's time we both let go.

Dean

*

With a shaking hand, Seamus took the piece of parchment. It was barely possible to tell his dull skin from the paper. He smoothed it out in a slow, careful gesture and sat for a while. It had been a while since he'd had to read anything, and all he could see was a page full of inky squiggles. Squinting, he tried to focus on one word. Its first letter has a straight back, then a curve. And four more letters, smaller than the first. D...... De..... Dean?

The art of reading came flooding back to him. He took in every word hungrily, forcing his slowed brain to work more quickly.

You need it.., snarled a voice in his head. Your brain can't work without the drugs..

But as the words snaked into his mind, he began to understand. Somewhere in him, he knew that he should be hurt, or angry- even both. But he couldn't cry, or shout, or even feel. Not anymore.

*

Seamus looked up into the liquid brown eyes. So liquid, in fact, they looked like pools of tears that would never be shed. Dean had come to visit him in the Hospital Wing; for the first, and inevitably the last time. Dean cleared his throat and walked to the window, where rain fell softly on the pane.

"You read it..?" The rain fell like Seamus' tears had fallen that night in summer. He could see the letter clutched in his hand, creased and discoloured.

"Yes." Seamus looked sharply into his eyes, green boring into brown. "Lots of times."

Dean cringed. Seamus was going to make this hard for him. Why hadn't he got better? He wanted a reaction- anything to stop him looking at that blank face, hearing that lifeless voice. That letter, clenched in his hand looked like the petals of a wilting flower.

"Can't feel anything.." Seamus muttered, staring at his hands. Each word rolled off his tongue slowly. "I can't do things. Dean."

Dean's soft mouth formed words, but he couldn't think of a suitable answer. He just wanted this to stop. He and Seamus could be friends, or they could be lovers. Or maybe it was time for him to finally let go, to move on and let the feelings drift away with the pain..

Seamus never shifted his eyes from Dean's, watching long lashes sweep over the brown as it filled with tears. He watched every crystal tear flow, never saying a word. After a while, he dropped the gaze, turning his attentions to the world outside the window.

And then suddenly, he felt a slender hand forcefully grab his face, hard lips crushing desperately on to his; his face being smeared with fresh tears.

Like the bursting of a dam, all the feelings that Dean had tried to deny and keep suppressed came flooding out. A gust of wind blew the windows open and the shutters crashed against the wall as the clouds burst and the rain began to pour. They stood there for quite some time, soaked through.