[#002] Never Can Say Goodbye (The Big Chill)

[catdetective]

Theme Prompt: 002 - Heartbreak.
Title: Never Can Say Goodbye
Fandom: The Big Chill
Rating/Warnings: Death/Suicide
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 500
Summary: Michael's immediate feelings in the wake of the phone call, before he starts packing.

 

    The news sweeps over him at first, like water over the smooth stone of his brain, nothing catching anywhere. He can’t hold onto the information. Says ‘what’ ten times. Sam, on the other end, says he’d told Harold he’d call, they’d formed a phone tree, and Michael can’t hold onto that, either.

    He doesn’t understand any of it, until Sam says ‘maybe it was an accident’ with such a discomfort that it hits him.

    He doesn’t know how the conversation ended. He wrote down the information Sam gave, the pertinent details. Viewing, funeral, wake.

    Viewing. He wants to, has to. He never got to see his parents. They were buried right away, he was at college, the funeral had to come after. He’d known it was what they wanted, embalming out of the question, and he’d been told the crash was bad, he wouldn’t want to see them like that anyway, and he hadn’t. He hadn’t, he was nineteen, he was fucking nineteen years old and he didn’t want to see them broken and empty, he didn’t want to remember them like that every time he closed his eyes, he’d had nightmares anyway.

    He has to see Alex. He has to know if it’s what he’s afraid of seeing, he has to know what life’s done to him since last they saw each other, but he’s thirty-three years old and he knows that in his memories, Alex is always going to be nineteen, twenty, twenty-one… he knows no matter what, he’ll never lose the vision he’s lived with in the years since college.

    He’s lived with all of them, loved all of them, so fiercely since then. He’s held onto them, condensed and frozen in time inside of his heart. Gotten family newsletters and the odd phone call, kept up as much as life has allowed any of them, knows how Sarah and Harold and Karen all look now from those newsletters, and of course Sam. Hasn’t seen a picture of Nick from the past ten years, saw Meg once maybe eight years back and they never made anything work out since, even though she’s not far…

    In his heart they’re all twenty-one, wild creatures of promise and compassion. None moreso than Alex, it was always Alex. The center that he guesses could not hold. If it’s true, if it wasn’t an accident…

    He has to see him. He has to say goodbye. He knows he won’t be able to say a single word of what sits heavy on his collapsed heart, but he has to see him. To acknowledge for himself the feelings he never got the chance to speak before. Things he might have spilled down the telephone line if he could have done, there were nights he felt mad enough to, clinging to the receiver and waiting and knowing…

    He has his friends to look forward to, at least. He’s not sure how he’d carry himself on if he didn’t know they would be there for him.

Comments

[etoile_noire]

So sad and painful.
Thank you for sharing it.

[catdetective]

Thank you!

[dray]

Oh no, that hurts to read. I can see why you'd go the fluff route on occasion with this fandom. It's very well written. (I'm so bad with self harm and suicide content, it pokes me in particularly rough patches. I'll be more engaged with the next round, I promise!)

[catdetective]

I spend most of my time writing for this fandom avoiding canon honestly... I think some of the best stuff I've written has been about Michael's relationship with grief and loss, but I really just want to let him be happy... (and thank you!)

[darjeeling]

I've added the community tags to this entry for you. Please tag entries in the future, thanks!

[catdetective]

Thank you-- I must have forgotten the proper tag system, I'll be sure to double check in future.

[rivulet027]

I never got to see one of my aunt's after she passed and that's always bugged me so I felt really connected to where he was coming from in needing to see his friend who'd passed.

In his heart they’re all twenty-one, wild creatures of promise and compassion.

I really loved that line.

[catdetective]

Thank you so much! That's I think the line I'm proudest of.

My dad died suddenly while on a trip out of town, back when I was in college, and I am definitely drawn to writing about Michael and grief as a way of taking my own feelings and making something out of them...

[rivulet027]

I was my grandma's live in caregiver for a long time and writing about grief really helps so I get where you're coming from there.

[catdetective]

Yeah! It just helps to be able to process feelings through fiction.

[badly_knitted]

So beautifully written.

[catdetective]

Thank you!

[sarajayechan]

Ouch. So beautifully written, though.

[catdetective]

Thank you so much!

[canadiandiamond]

Heartbreaking to read, an excellent encapsulation of that first wave of grief and trying one's best to cope with / understand it.

[catdetective]

Thank you! I just really love this character and like... the relationship he has with grief?

[sunspot]

oh lawd. so many feelings. Your writing is really awesome.

[catdetective]

Ah, thank you so much!

[samuraiter]

I usually remember the funnier bits of The Big Chill, but there's a deep sadness underneath all that. Well done!

[catdetective]

Thank you! And yeah, like... there really are such great funny bits, but even after the premise of the funeral bringing everyone together, like... Michael in particular is just so SAD? I just really adore him.