Work Text:
They sat in the back of his closet, abandoned. Unworn, left to collect dust and cobwebs, hidden far away in the back of his closet, never meant to see the light of day again.
He couldn’t bring himself to wear them. Not anymore. Not after….Not after what happened.
Jim had promised him, swore to him, he’d always be there to protect him. And now? Now he was lying six feet under with a hole in his skull, left to decompose into the ground.
A sob racked his body at the thought, at the reminder that Jim was really gone. That this wasn’t some silly joke of his that they’d come out of laughing, leaving to go get candy from the corner shop and return to watch a movie with the others on the couch. A reminder that it was real. No props this time.
“They look like you.” Jim had laughed, his arm linked with Richard’s. They stared into the glass, looking at the fluffy pair of white slippers, floppy ears coming off the side. A bunny slipper.
“Shut up.” Richard had mumbled, a blush gracing his face.
He had woken up the next morning with a weight at the end of his bed; It was the slippers.
And after? After he found out Jim was gone. A bullet to the brain. Through the mouth. Out the back of the head. Died on the spot.
As if that was supposed to comfort him.
So now, they sat at the back of his closet, a painful reminder of someone who wasn’t coming back.