disclaimer:all glory to the mushroom god. no glory to the putz.
spoilers:the birnam wood, any other jed/leo episode.
archive:if you think its good enough. just let me know.
notes:just before i saw the birnam wood, i read Priya's freefall story. this is an unofficial companion. Priya, this is for you. you have no idea the escapes you and the other writers have provided. p.s. complete and utter angst alert.
Landing by elicesmithus
"I'll need the names of your successors before you go."
He didn't know where he was. Somewhere in the woods. He didn't know or care. All he felt was the pain. He'd known it would come. Sooner or later, Jed would get tired of him. He didn't need some old drunk hanging around. He didn't need Leo. He never had. He didn't know how much Leo really loved him. Now, it had happened. He'd been kicked loose. Just like he'd known he would. And, all he could think was, "It's too soon. Not yet."
Leo had always known how unnecassary he was. Jed was his sun. The sun holds everything in it's gravity, but it doesn't need everything it holds. It doesn't need all of the debris and trash that orbits it. Just as Jed didn't need all the people that surrounded him. He could shine without a single person. Like the moon, all Leo had done was reflect the light back. Now, without his sun, Leo's landscape was bleak and airless.
No. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Jed wouldn't do this to him. He'd go back. Maybe if he went back now, he could make Jed see. If he could figure out where it went wrong, he could make it right. That's what he'd do. He'd make it right again. He'd make Jed love him again. He had to. The alternative was too painful.
He turned to go back and he felt it. The hammer blow to his chest. He clutched a tree and waited the pain out. When he could breathe again, he started back. Again, only this time, a hundred times worse. He screamed. Screamed with the pain of his betrayel and his heart attack. He screamed like he'd never stop. He screamed like he had wanted to but couldn't so many times. He screamed fear from when Jed was shot. He screamed rage at his friends disease. He screamed pain at his wife, and sadness at a world that would try to snuff the lives out of his friends. He even screamed love. Love for his daughter. Love for the men he considered more than sons. More than brothers. And, finally, at the last, he screamed for his friend. The man he loved. The man he still loved. The man he loved more than scotch, more than his marraige, more than his life.
As he lay there, face down in the dirt, he saw the helicopter overhead, and he knew. Help wasn't coming this time. His friend was gone. His sun had finally set.
And he was alone.
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