Circus
CW: grief from death of parents
I still don't think I'm ready. My heart is squeezed tight as we climb out of the car and I look out over the cemetery. Row after row of white, black and gray markers. Signals that someone who was once deeply loved is no more.
My eyes are already pricking with tears and I swear I can hear Mom's laughter echoing in my ears, and this is the exact reason why I don't visit. If I don't see the constant reminders of reality, I can pretend like they've just gone on a really long trip together.
A really, really long one.
And one day they might come back and I'll get to hear her laughter for real.
Fuck. I scrub at the tears rolling down my cheeks as Rowan rounds the car and hovers beside me. He doesn't say anything, just slides his gloved hand into mine, holding me firmly in reality and pulling me back from the past.
"Take as long as you need." His deep voice is an emotional rasp, and I know that he's feeling a little of what I am.
Things with his parents aren't great, and we'll be seeing them later, but this is part of why we won't completely give up on them.
If they're willing to try and set aside their bigotry and learn to open their mind to things that are bigger than them, we're going to give them that chance.
He still has time with his parents.
Mine are gone.
And as I look around at the cold, impersonal plots, I hate this place more than ever.
The urge to get back into the car and leave is strong, but there's a deep part of me that needs this. I've been scared of this moment since their funeral and there's no way I could have come without Rowan's support.
He hasn't been pushy or tried to protect me from it, he's just left the whole decision up to me and made it clear that I could lean on him if this ever happened. Well, it's happening. And I'm leaning hard.
"I don't know if I can." My voice is as weak as the sun today.
"Hey." He turns, pulls me closer, and cups my face.
His gloves warm my cheeks as I meet his eyes, and I know I'm still crying but I don't try to hide it from him.
Rowan's cried in front of me plenty, and I've never thought less of him.
"I love you. I know you're brave enough to do this.
I know you want to do this. But if you tell me to get back in the car, I won't ask any questions.
If you tell me you want to find them, I'll follow, and I'll hold you for as long as you need me to in order to get through it. "
"Thank you," I whisper. It's not just gratitude though. It's I love you, and I need you, and I can't do this without you. Rowan has a way of brightening all the areas of my life I thought I'd locked away for good. "I want to do this, it's just ... it's taking a minute."
"We're not in a hurry, here."
He's right, but I think the longer I hesitate, the harder it will be. I need to just push through and face it. Feel whatever pain is waiting for me, and know that I'll heal from it. It might take time, but I have no doubt Rowan will be there for me the whole time.
He faced his fears and now it's time for me to face mine.
"Let's go."
Rowan retakes my hand and I'm stiff as I lead the way down the paths between gravestones.
I remember the exact way, like a well-worn memory, despite only ever being here once.
My exhales come out in tiny white puffs and I'm glad it's cold, glad the world seems to have stopped, glad there aren't many people around so that this moment could feel like a time capsule just for me to experience.
The closer we get, the slower I walk, feeling like a headstone has embedded itself in my throat. The pain of how much I miss them catches me completely off guard and by the time we reach where they're resting, my vision is too blurry to read their names.
I pause, frozen over this moment finally being here, and Rowan steps behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. Like he's giving me all his strength and I gladly take it.
I'm not sure whether to say something. Whether to apologize for staying away for so long, or tell them how much I miss them, or just break down and sob.
In some ways I'm completely numb, and in others I'm feeling too much.
No one really goes over the etiquette of how you're supposed to react and think and feel after losing your parents.
I can barely swallow and my nose is running as much as my eyes are.
Rowan's face turns into my neck and buries there, and I reach up to slide my fingers through his hair. A sob bursts from me, but I still don't turn away. This raw, chest-splitting pain is enough to bring me to my knees and if Rowan wasn't holding me, I might have fallen by now.
Years. So many years. That's how much longer I should have had them for. They should have been here for this, to see that the boy who hurt me put me back together and I'm better for him being in my life.
They should have seen how my friends have become family.
Should have witnessed my career and all the things I want to accomplish moving forward.
My parents should have been there to be disappointed in my stupid choices, and worried about me getting my license and being out all night.
They should have been pressuring me to settle down and give them grandkids.
I'm shaking with sorrow that I'll never be able to give them that.
They'll never be grandparents.
They'll never be anything ever again.
Except a memory. The greatest memories I'll ever have and wish I could take out of my brain and project for everyone to see, because it fucking sucks that two of the greatest people who ever existed are gone and that's just it. When I die, there'll be no one left to visit these graves.
"I've got you," Rowan says, and I finally give into the urge to turn in his arms and hide from the world.
I cry so hard a headache builds in my forehead and I'm sure my face is red and puffy and fucked up, but there's no other way for me to feel all this.
I've put it off for so long and now all those emotions I set aside my entire adult life have caught up.
They're almost crushing me. They would be, if it wasn't for Rowan.
He doesn't rush me and it's his scent, his arms around me, the solid feel of him being here and being real that finally pulls me back from the edge.
The intense pain and energy slowly start to seep from my body and when I have nothing left to cry, I sag against him.
Completely exhausted.
I swallow past that lump and finally turn to read their names. Seeing them etched into the stone almost sets me off again, but I sniff long and hard and blink the tears away.
"I love you," I whisper.
Rowan doesn't answer because he knows this one isn't for him.
Three words I'll never be able to tell them again.
But they knew. Like I know that they loved me. That I was the most important person in their lives and they died knowing that they were the most incredible parents I could have ever asked for. I might not always have been the best son, but I know for a fact they knew that.
I wouldn't be who I am without them.
"I think I'm ready to go," I croak.
Rowan squeezes me tighter, giving me that last boost of strength that I need. Then I take his hand and we walk away, knowing that it won't be so long or so hard next time. Maybe next time I'll even be able to talk to them.
For now, that was enough.
We reach the car and before he can climb in, I lean against him and press a lingering kiss to his lips.
"I couldn't have done that without you."
"You could have," he says, stroking a thumb over my cheek. "But I'm glad I could be here for you anyway."
There's no doubt in my mind, whatsoever, that he always will be.