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Waking up to an overcast sky and the high probability of rain seemed almost fitting. A cold, gloomy day for a melancholy heart, and rightfully so.
The couch was your safe haven for the time being, the warm fleece blanket wrapped around you a heavy comfort against your stiff muscles. Emotionally, you were already drained, and it was barely ten in the morning.
Today marked the one year anniversary of his death, and honestly, you weren't sure if you were prepared to visit him again. God knows you hadn't been sleeping very well as of late, and the mere thought of having such an emotionally devastating visit was enough to fuel your restlessness. Three weeks of bone-deep exhaustion was not a good thing, especially when work required the focus it did.
Perhaps you could make the trip another day, wait for the storm to pass as well as your depressed mood before visiting the cemetery. You could go back to bed, wait out the day under your comforter and hope for a decent night of rest. Maybe next time, you'd have gotten some sleep. Maybe next time, you wouldn't feel so alone....
You startled suddenly at the sound of knocking coming from the front door, four raps to its heavy frame. There was a muffled greeting followed by your name, and, ah, that's why you wouldn't be slipping back into your bedroom anytime soon.
"Door's unlocked," you called out from your corner of the couch, and it wasn't but a moment later that Mark entered your apartment. He looked nice, having dressed up as you had both agreed to do and opting for contacts instead of his glasses. Even his hair was spiked up in its usual fashion, which was a miracle given the cool humidity of the day.
"Hey," he greeted as he moved to sit beside your huddled form, elbows to his knees as he looked you over carefully.
"Hey," you replied softly with a too-wide smile.
"You're not dressed yet."
"Yeah, I sort of had a breakdown in the shower earlier. Couldn't bring myself to put on more than what I wore to bed."
He frowned a bit, but it was to be expected.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"I thought about it, but I would have tried to convince you to wait another day. As much as I don't want to do this right now, I just...I have to. He'd be disappointed in me if I didn't come."
Fresh tears were beginning to form in your eyes, but you blinked them away before they could get any worse. Now was not the time for crying, not when you had so much of it to do later on.
Mark remained silent as you wiped at your damp eyes, allowing you to get yourself together. He was good at that, knowing when you needed your space, a moment to gather your thoughts. You were thankful for his quiet understanding.
"He'd never be disappointed in you," he spoke softly, "it wouldn't even cross his mind. To know you had even planned on seeing him would have delighted him more than anything."
"Yeah?"
"Totally yeah. You and I both know how much he liked surprises. Which is why we're gonna surprise the mess out of him today, right?"
There was a pause in time where Mark looked to you with a hopeful gaze. As much as you wanted to stay home, you knew you couldn't. You wouldn't, not when he was there, keeping his promise and doing his best to cheer you up when you needed it most.
A small, fleeting smile came to your lips. "Yeah."
Mark gave a grin of his own, and you knew it was because he had found a way, small as it was, to ease your worries.
"Good, good. Now, why don't you go get dressed? I'll wait right here, and we can get this day over with, together."
You pressed your lips in a tight line and gave a short nod, pulling yourself up from the couch and slowly making your way to the bedroom.
The outfit you had picked was already laid out, a pretty asymmetrical créme colored dress with an overlay of lace and some black leggings to keep your legs somewhat shielded from the cooler weather. It was more of a spring dress, but it was his favorite; you hadn't worn it in quite some time.
You rid yourself from the comfort of your fleece blanket and began the task of dressing. Your limbs felt heavy with fatigue, and it was from more than just a lack of sleep. Still, you were able to look somewhat presentable, opting to pull your hair back in a low bun. Makeup wouldn't be necessary, not for what was in store.
When you made your way back into the livingroom, Mark was where you had left him, though there was a visible anxiousness to him that you hadn't noticed before. He was restless, if not just a bit, made more obvious by his leg bouncing up and down at a moderate pace.
He was deep in thought, too, with his eyes focused on the blank television screen. Though as you moved closer, his attention shifted to you. He stood in one swift motion, giving you a once-over.
On your part, it felt almost awkward, waiting on his approval of your outfit. It didn't matter, really. It shouldn't have mattered.
"Wow, you look...lovely. Very lovely," he said, giving a nod of finality as if pleased with his statement.
A lilting smile lit up your face at the compliment. "Thanks."
"You ready to go?"
"Not really, but I suppose there's no way around it."
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not going anywhere. I'll be with you every step of the way."
Mark held out his arm for you to take, a charming smile in place. Once again, you were reminded how very lucky you were to have a friend like him in your life. Without Mark, you would have surely succumbed to the darkness that had taken hold of you exactly a year ago.
"Let's get to it, then," you said, and with a deep breath and a nod of encouragement to yourself, you linked your arm with his, ready as you'd ever be to get the day over with.
The drive was just short of an hour, right on the outskirts of the city limit. There were still plenty of businesses that surrounded the large plot of land dotted with hundreds of gravestones, though they resembled those of small-town origin. It was a quaint place, more quiet than the hustle and bustle urban life had to offer.
How strange, then, that he was buried there.
Jonathan "Jinx" Wayne Baxter.
Seeing his name on the smooth concrete stone had you near paralyzed, just as you had been that same day a year ago amongst grieving friends and family. It was hard to believe he had been gone from this earth for so long, even harder to believe that there would be even more years without his cheerful, exuberant presence. He'd been the light of your world, a bright flame amongst the shadows, until fate's cruel design decided to smother it and any illumination it could have left behind.
"I miss him so much," you said quietly, voice cracking as you forced the words out. It was the first thing you'd said since you and Mark left your apartment, Mark having filled the drive with his own stories of Jinx as you listened.
"Every day, something new happens that I wish I could tell him, and every day, I'm reminded...he's not there anymore."
"Maybe not in person," Mark began, pulling your attention away from the stone, "but he's always there. In your thoughts, your memories; he's not gone completely, (Y/N)."
You gave a watery smile, sniffling as the first set of tears began to fall.
"Then why do I feel so alone?"
Mark stared for a long moment before he was forced to look away. You didn't expect an answer. Really, there wasn't one he could give.
"I think...he was gonna ask me to marry him," you continued, the change of topic sudden. It was much better than the quiet mood you had unintentionally created.
"I don't know when, exactly, but I think he would have waited for spring. I only know because his mom practically gave it away. She can't keep a secret when she's excited."
Despite the tears, you were able to smile at the memory. The look of surprise on Mrs. Baxter's face as she nearly blurted out her son's secret was priceless. She had a great cover-up, but the damage had been done, and you couldn't keep from smiling the rest of that week.
Then the accident happened, and things just weren't the same since.
"She said something about a ring, so I guess he was already looking for one, or at least planned on it."
"He found it, actually," Mark admitted, and it was your turn to look his way.
"How do you know?"
"He wanted a second opinion and asked me to tag along. I'd never seen him so nervous about anything before. Then again, I'd never seen him so happy, either."
A fresh set of tears was brought on by his words, and you had to completely turn away from Mark just to hold it together. You could feel your shoulders shaking with the effort it took to keep your sobs at bay. Your heart ached so much.
There was a muttered curse from behind, Mark's voice a low whisper most likely only meant for him to hear. There was a long stretch of silence that followed, then the gentle touch of fingers at your elbow. You shied away from the touch almost instantly.
"I need a moment," you choked out, sniffling and trying your damnedest to wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your coat.
"Yeah...of course, yeah. I'll, uh, just give you a minute."
There was shuffling from behind, the dampened crunch of leaves against a rain-soaked ground growing fainter and fainter. Where Mark had gone, you didn't see. All you could focus on was your own breathing, how it was evening from the anxious stutter it had become. It wouldn't last.
Turning back to look at Jinx's grave was a mistake, but you did it, anyway. Your eyes stung and prickled as yet another wave of despair overtook your senses. The gentle wind felt icy against your burning cheeks, but you didn't care. The cold and damp was nothing compared to the numbness you felt from within.
Jonathan "Jinx" Wayne Baxter. February 24th, 1988 - November 13th, 2011. Loving son, devoted boyfriend, encouraging friend.
"I miss you so much, Jinx," you spoke softly to the gravestone, sniffling all the while. "At first, I'd wake up every morning and forget anything ever happened. But it was only me in bed. You weren't there, or in the bathroom hogging all the hot water, or in the kitchen burning bacon but somehow managing the perfect pancake, always singing that stupid "You Are My Sunshine" nursery rhyme. You weren't there, Jinx, and I couldn't handle this pain in my chest knowing you never would be again."
A short laugh escaped you then, the tone bitter and watered down.
"I'm a stubborn mess, you know. After all, I'm still here, still alive and kicking. But I'm not the same. I'm...empty inside, hollow, almost. And I know it's my own fault for pushing people away, but as terrified as I was of losing you like I did, I think...I think I'm afraid of getting that close to another person even more."
The wind chose that moment to send a harsh gust your way, the piercing cold forcing you to cross your arms with a shudder. It passed just as soon as it came up, and all was a gentle breeze again. Above, the clouds were darkening, rolling into each other. More rain was coming, and fast.
"Some of your friends still keep in touch with me," you continued, words coming to you more easily than before. "Jannet and Nick are finally together as of two months ago. Took 'em long enough, didn't it? Bic's been hired on as an animator for a short film that's supposed to come out next fall, and his sister gets to voice the main character. They're doing great, all of them."
You paused, biting at your lip momentarily. Your tears had mostly dried up now, though your eyes still held remnants of them at the corners, ready to fall again if need be. You were tired of crying, tired of hurting so much.
"Mark...is a great person. He's helped me through so much, Jinx. I see why he was your best friend; you both have a similar sense of humor, and kindness that could just go on forever. How he finds the time to deal with me, I'll never know, but he does. Even when I try to push him away, he always comes back. I could never thank him enough."
Thunder, deep and booming, sounded in the distance. It would do you no good to get completely soaked and catch a cold, if you hadn't already done so. There was still so much to say.
"There are days where I don't want to get out of bed. Then I get a text from Mark, and it's some stupid animation of a chicken dancing around a pole, or some off-the-wall thing about the possibility of setting icecream on fire, and...I guess it makes me forget that I hurt. Some days, he reminds me of you; most days, he's just...Mark."
Thinking back on it, you couldn't remember how many times a simple text or phone call from Mark had literally pulled you through the rest of your day. He was a constant motivator in your life, whether he realized it or not.
Come to think of it, he'd become quite a few things in your life since Jinx had introduced you two. He was so full of energy, always willing to help when needed and ready to face any obstacle with blinding confidence. He wasn't afraid to be himself, wildly goofy and charismatic, but somehow still sensitive enough to read the situation and adjust himself accordingly.
Because of Mark, you were able to see the fun in life still. Because of him, even your darkest days didn't seem so dark, in the end. In a way, he was...he had become your-
"That sunshine just doesn't wanna show today, does it?"
You turned abruptly at the sound of Mark's voice, unaware that he had returned. He startled at your jump, taking a step back to give you some space.
"Whoa, hey, easy there. Didn't mean to scare you."
"Where did you go?" you asked, your voice whispy from crying.
"The sky wasn't looking so good, so I went back to the car to get my handy dandy umbrella. Also, I sorta made a detour and got this."
Mark lifted his hand to you, revealing a single rose within a clear plastic sleeve. Your heart jumped into panic mode for all of two seconds until you really looked at the rose.
It was a lovely soft shade of purple, its lilac petals blossoming out beautifully and nearly straining against its confines. There was also a few sprigs of baby's breath accenting the bloom, making it hard not to notice its perfection and the lovely way it was put together.
You faultered as the flower was presented to you, your hands uncrossing from your chest but hesitating to do much more.
"Why?"
"Because I made a mess of things," he answered simply. "I fucked up. I made you cry, and it wasn't my intention. Sometimes my big mouth says things before my brain can stop it, and I upset you. I'm sorry."
This time, you were able to make yourself reach out and take the flower from his hand, the plastic casing crackling as you pulled the rose to your chest. You stared down at it for a long time, so long, in fact, that when you looked back up at Mark with wide, watery eyes, he immediately began to panic.
"Shit, damnit, I knew I shouldn't have picked a rose. I mean, I thought since it wasn't red, it would be okay and all. Shouldn't have let that old man talk me into it, damnit! I can't get things right today-"
Anything else he said was lost to your ears. There was an ache in your chest, but much different than the ache you'd felt all day, more powerful and full to bursting. It overcame you, this feeling, and before you knew it, you'd stepped forward.
All you knew at that moment was how warm Mark felt against you as your arms wound tightly around him. His embrace was just as tight, comfortable and shielding you away from the cold and the heartache and whatever the rest of the world kept throwing your way.
Again, you cried, this time against his shoulder in broken sobs, hands clutching at the material of his coat. The whole time, he continued to hold you close, anchoring you against your emotional breakdown.
When you finally calmed, eyes still wet and a few lingering hiccups escaping your throat, you realized Mark had been talking quietly to you the whole time, gentle words to ease your mind as he slowly swayed you both from side to side.
God...this man. Whatever did you do to deserve someone like him in your life?
"Thank you, Mark. Thank you so much."
"Would it be bad if I asked what for?"
You pulled away almost reluctantly from his warm embrace, giving a truly genuine smile as you wiped at your eyes, hopefully for the last time that day.
"For being you, y'big goof."
"That is the worst thing to thank me for, because now I have free reign to be the biggest dork you've ever seen."
Your smile widened at the sight of his own, and a small laugh followed soon after. As impossible as it felt just moments ago, things were...okay. And that was okay.
"You hungry? There's a pizza place across the street. Smells great, so that's gotta be a good sign."
Your eyes strayed to Jinx's gravestone one last time. So much to say, so much to explain. So much that you didn't understand, that you were afraid of.
"(Y/N)?"
"Yeah," you finally answered, looking back up at Mark after a deep breath. Not but a second later, the first few sprinkles of rain began to fall.
"Yeah, I'm starving."
It could wait, you supposed. Lunch sounded good, and it was, as was the rest of your day spent with Mark.
When the day ended was when things started to come up, such as the ache in your chest, the hurt and depression and lonliness that plagued you for so long. Climbing into bed was a comfort to your tired mind and body. Sleep was imminent, as were possible nightmares, though it wouldn't last long.
Just before you could slip into a heavy sleep, your text tone went off. The message there was from Mark, and suddenly, there was more to smile about then you could remember there being. Perhaps your dreams would be much more brighter than you thought.
'You're never alone, not when I'm right here for you. Whenever you need me, I'm always here. Goodnight, (Y/N). Sweet dreams.'