Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

My eyes blurred as I opened them, overwhelmed by the sun’s rays. As my eyes adjusted, I looked around, confused. That was meant to be my final goodbye. Why am I– Where am I? Is this Heaven? Hell? Purgatory? My head hurts, but that was a given. I was bursting with questions. What is this place? How did I get here? Is this a dream? Am I dead, or did I miraculously survive? I breathed slowly and tried to calm down as I scanned the environment. 

Surrounding me were hills covered in yellow and red flowers. I looked to my feet, and noticed they were chrysanthemums. There were no signs of life other than me and a dirt path stretching for miles. I could see the moon faintly on the horizon. Turning around, the setting sun blinded me. (Or was it rising? I couldn't tell.)  I covered it with my arm, and as I did, I looked down to see a gravestone with my name engraved on it. Cinque Vite 19[xx]-2009. Everything makes more sense now. I really am dead, aren’t I? 

There was nothing I could do about it, though. This is what I wanted, after all. When I put my hand to my face, an instinctive sign of stress, it was shockingly intact. Unexpected, considering how I went about it… Christ. How did Vin react? Probably not well. I don’t want to imagine that he was the one who found me. What a horrible thing for me to do to someone, especially someone I loved. No one wants to see their friend’s body limp and lifeless.

I shake my head in an attempt to scare the thought away. I just hope my note made its way to him. I would do anything to be with him right now. I wish we could be here together; it is quite a beautiful sight, if only he were here to see it.

I wished that death would’ve felt like drifting off to sleep. Like I’m in high school again, falling onto my bed after a stressful day and drifting off, maybe even putting on a record and listening to it spin. It was peaceful, and I had some of the best naps of my life like that. Maybe that’s why this flower-filled meadow feels like a dream… 

But that is not how death felt. It was sudden, like someone punched you, knocking you out cold. The only warning of what was to come was my finger on the trigger. But all in all, this wasn’t the worst purgatory, mums are my favorite flowers. I remember my parents telling me that people who commit suicide go to hell, so I guess I lucked out.

I hope Vin knows that I’m alright. I am very content with where I am for the first time, and I hope he knows that. I hope this feeling lingers—

Ow– What was that?

Ow! There it goes again!

OW! What the hell is happening? It sort of feels like—

OW! This felt like needles pricking my scalp; small amounts of blood trickled down my forehead with each stab. What was this? Why am I suddenly in pain? I reached towards my head and felt… a stem? Growing out of my head? I grabbed it and pulled it in front of my face. Were these… Chrysanthemums? What the hell is going on? Why were there flowers sprouting out of my head??—

OW!! Ugh… Why is this happening? I sighed, wiping the blood from my face. Let me try to focus more on my surroundings, maybe they will stop sprouting then…

Chapter Text

“Hey, Vin!” 

“Huh–?” I turned to my left, and Annie was standing in my doorway, hands behind his back. He was smiling. What was he planning…

“I’ve got something for you!” He said.

“What is it?” I questioned, shifting my body, facing him now more than my wall. I leaned slightly to try and see what he was hiding.

He turned away, “Hey, don’t peek!”

“What?” I laughed as I spoke, “It can’t be that big if ‘ya can hold it behind your back.”

His smile widened as he rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well, I think you’ll enjoy it.” He brought out a small bouquet of yellow and red flowers from behind him. Suddenly, I was way more confused.

“What’s all this about?” I point to the pot across my room, “I already got some.” I turn to look at them and see that they were wilted. “I really gotta water those…”

Annie walked over to me and shoved the flowers into my hands, “Yeah, but these are, y’know, alive? Plus, they’re for something else!” He dragged me up off my bed and started walking out the door. “C’mon! It’s something special, double surprise!” 

“Woah woah wait– Hold on! Why do I need flowers?”

“You’ll see!”

Once we left the circus’ perimeter, and hopped over those weird floating platforms that connect everything, we reached the graveyard. I had been here once before, years ago, but it seems that the number of headstones has grown… That’s unsettling.

“Right over here,” Annie grabs my wrist again and drags me to the far right of the graveyard. “This one.” He points to the farthest right grave. Cinque Vite, 19[xx]-2009. My heart sank into my stomach.

“I know it isn’t much, but I noticed you’ve been really down about it lately. So I thought: ‘Hey, what if I made him a tribute like the rest of the graves? Maybe that’ll cheer Vin up!’ So, that’s what I did! I know that I didn’t ask first, and I can take it down if you want…” Annie’s words turned to white noise.

I stare at the grave against my will, I can feel my breath heavy and I can’t tell if I’m angry at him or if I’m upset. His heart was in the right place, and I don’t exactly mind him having a grave here, but I don’t think I’m prepared for another reminder of what happened. For what I saw.

“Thanks, Ann,” I muttered.

“Of cour—! Hey, wait, are you okay?” 

I nod.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, Ann.”

His eyes locked onto me. I can tell he knows I’m lying.

“Well, if you need anything, I’m here, " he assures me before gesturing for a hug. I don’t move; he hugs me anyway before walking away. I can feel him turn to look at me every so often.

I sit down next to Cinque’s grave, more zoning out than really looking at it. I fiddle with the flowers in my hand, these were always his favorite. I’m annoyed that I can’t remember their names. It was something weird beginning with a C. I think that's why he liked them—people never got his name right, people never got their name right. But maybe I’m looking too far into it. Maybe he just liked how they looked. 

I haven’t thought about him for this long in a while, it feels so foreign. I remember—before we enlisted—I used to think about nothing but him. Him and his guitars. His stupid ties he wore all the time. His music collections. His stupid laugh… He seemed so different after enlisting. He was always somewhat off, somewhat depressed, but it got worse after enlisting. We were broke, we needed the benefits, but a part of me regrets convincing him to join… A part of me regrets putting him around so many guns.

Memories keep flooding back, and I remember when they told me he was gone. They said I couldn’t see him, but he left a note for me. Memory after memory hit me like punches, and that was my sign to leave. I set the flowers down on his grave and walked back to the arcade, holding back tears.

I sat back on my bed and stared out my “window” and the note that lay on the windowsill, then over at the dying flowers in the corner, then at the writing at the top of my door: “The First and Last”… Maybe a nap will get this off my mind. My head hurts, anyway. I reach over and turn off the radio, falling onto my bed when I finally reach it.

Maybe this circus was some kind of… freaky fever dream. Maybe we would have never enlisted, maybe we would have never fought, maybe I will wake up and it will be 2009 again. But I know that isn’t going to happen. I close my eyes, and let the delirium win.