A ficlet by both Cali and me YAY!
Charlie’s POV
“Mr. Sloper” said the healer, looking up at Charlie. His hands were folded over his desk, and his expression was pained. Instantly, even before fully walking in the room, Charlie knew there wasn’t going to be any good news. Just like there hadn’t been any last week, or the week before, or the one before that. ”Mr. Sloper,” repeated the healer, reaching up to take off his thick, horn-rimmed glasses. Charlie looked up from the ground, acknowledging him with only a look. His words were stuck in his throat.
“Mr. Sloper, I’m afraid Miss Weasley’s condition isn’t looking any better” he said, after clearing his throat rather loudly. Charlie stared at him. Of course it wasn’t looking any better. Lucy had been in a coma for three years. Did they really think Charlie was keeping him around to see if he got any better? Obviously, nobody understood. Nobody really realized what was going on.
A normal person would’ve pulled the plug ages ago. Probably within a few weeks of the coma falling. Charlie himself had been informed only four days after the accident that Lucy’s coma had very, very little chances of lifting. And just like that, Charlie had lost what little hope he had. He instantly knew the one thing in his life that was actually normal had been ripped out of his hands and smashed. So keeping her here wasn’t because he thought she might come back or because he thought some miracle was about to happen, it was about him being selfish.
Charlie knew he couldn’t loose her. And of course, in most ways, he’d already lost her. She couldn’t speak or move or even see or hear anything, so really, she wasn’t there anymore. The only real reason she wasn’t dead yet was because Charlie was selfish.
“I realize that” he said, bringing himself back to reality. He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand, and sighed. As far as sleeping went, he hadn’t done much of it lately.
“You need to let her go, Mr. Sloper” said the healer.
“I don’t need to do anything” he snapped, glaring daggers at him. The man shrunk in intimidation, and cleared his throat again.
“Right, right, but you know, eventually you’ll have to-” But Charlie wasn’t listening anymore. He gritted his teeth and walked to the door, leaving without even explaining. It was cold outside, and Charlie stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned up the collar of his jacket. All he could think about was her, the way she looked when she smiled, the sound of her laugh… all the small things now seemed like the most important thing in the world, specially since he could feel them slipping away from his memory.
He walked down a street that was mainly deserted, and as he did, he remembered how Lucy had run down that same street the fall before the accident, and thrown herself on a pile of raked leaves.
“Don’t you want to try?” she’d asked him, looking up at him from where she lay, and he’d helped her up and laughed, and told her he’d much rather watch her do it then do it himself, and then she’d called him boring and skipped off on her way. The memory made his heart feel a little bit lighter. Just then, he decided he was going to go see her, if for the last time.
lalallaalla transition wow this sucks a lot what am i even doing okay right continue
Charlie stepped into the cold hospital room. Everything was the same as he’d last seen it earlier, obviously. After three years, people stopped visiting as much. Everyone stops minding about other people after a while. Lucy lay in her bed looking exactly they way she had looked for… a long time. And even still, she looked beautiful, like she was asleep. Charlie sighed and walked next to her, sitting on a chair and taking her hand. He talked to her a lot, which at first felt ridiculous, but now felt perfectly normal.
“Luce… I’m sorry” he said, softly. “I’ve kept you here a lot longer than you have any business being, and that was selfish and stupid and wrong. I’m keeping you here for myself and myself only” He took a pause, and looked around the room. “Everything about this scene has been exactly the same for three years, because frankly, I needed it. I still do. But, just for once, I’m going to stop being selfish. I’m going to do the right thing, just because it’s you”
He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I know I was horrible and mean and awful to you, and in general, but even if you can’t actually hear me, I wanted to tell you that as far as I’m capable of, I really do love you, Lucy. You were my life, and you still are, really. You were the most amazing human being I ever got to meet, and I can’t believe it has to end so soon…” He pressed another kiss, to her cheek, then backed away.
“So that’s it. I do love you. Maybe not in the way people usually love other people, but in my own way. And that’s why I’m letting you go”
Two weeks later, Charlie stood near to the place where Lucy’s funeral was being held. No matter how hard he’d tried, her family had refused to let him be there. But he didn’t really mind too much. The thought of her being buried underground was almost maddening. So he waited until he heard them all leave, and even after that. He stayed near the cemetery for what seemed like days.
She was gone. All of what she was and what she did and the things she said were left only to memory. And Charlie was alone again, completely and unbearably alone. But if he couldn’t have Lucy, he didn’t want to have anyone at all. As much as he thought death was the end, and after that there was nothing… right now, he wished, with all he was, that there was something more. That she still was and she was happy, wherever she was. Even if that wasn’t true, she would always be in his mind. Always.
Lucy’s POV
Time eludes me while I lay in my mostly silent room in the hospital. The only sounds I hear are the steady beeping of the machines that remind me that I am, indeed, still alive. It seems unbelievable to me that I’m still here, still breathing and living and thinking. I hardly feel alive at all. I can’t move, eat, or talk. My eyes remain permanently shut and my body is paralyzed. Everyone thinks I’m a complete vegetable and that I can’t hear or comprehend what they’re saying, but I can. It was hard at first because everyone’s voice is a little muffled but it didn’t take long for me to distinguish who was who. The voices that sound the most hopeful belong to my parents and sometimes Molly. The ones that are consoling are the doctors. And the voice that is angry and loud when other people are around but so soft and tender when it’s just him, is Charlie. If my breathing wasn’t controlled by a ventilator, I’m sure my breath would catch every time I heard his voice drift into the room. Usually I can hear him before he comes. I’ve learned the sound of his footsteps and the moment I hear them pounding down the hall, I know his voice isn’t that far behind.
Today feels different somehow, though. I can just sense that things are going to change. Maybe it’s because my parents haven’t come to visit me for almost a week or because Molly has stayed away even longer, but I just think that things are going to change.
I’m not sure how much time passes but eventually I hear Charlie’s voice. I didn’t know it was him. His footsteps sound different, more like he’s dragging his feet and doesn’t want to spend time with me today. That happens sometimes. There are days when I can tell he just doesn’t have the strength to be here and I think today is one of them.
I hear him sit down and he takes my hand. I want more than anything to smile at him and tell him that I can hear him. I know he doesn’t think I can because he says it a lot. I wish there were some way to show him that I knew he was with me and that he was there every day.
As he talks, I feel my heart clench. I have never thought his choice to keep me here was selfish. I try with all my might to show him in some way that I’m still here and that it’s okay that he’s kept me around for so long but somewhere within me I know that I can’t and I won’t. I know that this is the end and the last of our visits together. The only evidence that this has affected me in any way is the beeping machine speeds up for a fraction of a second, barely enough for anyone to notice at all.
I feel like this moment couldn’t be worse if I’d wanted it to be. There is nothing I can imagine hurting more than Charlie leaving me forever. But I’m wrong because it does get worse and he presses his lips to my forehead and tells me he loves me. I’m screaming in my mind, trying my hardest to break through and even just make my pinky finger move to show him I’m listening and I want to tell him that I love him, too, because it’s been three years since I’ve gotten the chance. Three years since I’ve kissed him, since we’ve had a real conversation.
He presses his lips to my cheek and I force myself out of my thoughts to listen to him speak once more because I know this is the last time I will ever hear his voice. He says he loves me one last time and I can feel my heart breaking into ten million pieces as I hear his footsteps, heavy and dragging, making their way out of the room and down the hallway. Going, going, going until he’s gone forever.
It doesn’t take much longer for my parents and Molly to arrive. A few hours at the most, I think. They all talk about what to do and when to do it. One more week, they decide. They’ll give me one more week so anyone that wants to come say goodbye to me can - like my cousins, grandparents, aunts, and uncles. And they decide that Charlie isn’t allowed at my funeral.
For the second time today I feel myself struggling to take over my own body again and to get myself to wake up and tell them that if I’m going to die, I want Charlie by my side. I want him to be the one holding my hand when they pull the plug and I want him to be at my funeral. I want him there for everything. But I can’t because I’m trapped, just like I have been for 3 years. I’m a prisoner in my own body and there’s nothing I can do to get out. I just have to wait to die.