solangelo oneshots

Shrike

a/n: i know some people don't like song fics, and to be honest this isn't great and doesn't fully fit with the song, but i heard it and got inspired, and by this point i need to ride any level of motivation until it runs out if i ever want to get anything done.

so yeah. enjoy a sub-par attempt at angst written by a stressed out, sleep deprived version of myself. i might just delete this when i'm less fried.

tw: arguments, major character death.

The rain hammers against the ground as an almost soothing backdrop to the miserable scene being presented.

Will stares at the monument in front of him, barely believing his eyes despite the truth staring him right in the face.

I couldn't utter my love when it counted.
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now.

He never should have pushed him so far. He knows that now. He knew it then, deep down, but he told himself it would be fine. Things had always worked out for him, and he acted as though things always would.

I couldn't whisper when you needed it shouted.
Ah, but I'm singing like a bird 'bout it now.

He's never been good at owning up to his mistakes.

At least not when it matters.

Bites on above,
But never would form,
Like a cry at the final breath that is drawn.

Too little, too late, as always, he realises, as he stares at the gravestone.

Remember me love, when I'm reborn,
As the shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn.

All couples fought. That's normal.

But he and Nico... He can admit, now, that they took it too far. Once again, owning up to anything now is fairly useless. It won't bring him back.

And I had no idea on what ground I was found in,
All of that goodness is goin' with you now.

But they always made up.

Until they didn't.

Until Nico had enough, and left him.

Then when I met you my virtues uncounted,
All of my goodness is goin' with you now.

And Will? He destroyed all he had left.

Nico was always too good for him. He thinks, now, that maybe he knew that subconsciously all along.

Driving alone, following your form,
Hung like the pelt of some prey you had worn.

Maybe that's why he pushed Nico away when all he thought he really wanted to do was hold him close.

Even in his darkest hours, a small part of him still tried to protect the man he loved.

For a boy born to be a healer, Will was always actually a rather destructive force.

Remember me love, when I'm reborn,
As a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn.

Not that it mattered. Nico was gone anyway, and it was all his fault.

He thought that Nico could give as good as he got. Will kept pushing, and pushing, until Nico was left with no choice.

I fled to the city with so much discounted,
Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now.

He left. He walked right out in the middle of an argument, got in the car, and drove.

He always drove a little too fast, and tears can blur your vision worse than you would expect.

Back to the hedgerows where bodies are mounted,
Ah, but I'm flying like a bird to you now.

It may have been a quick and painless death. Will likes to think it was, but he'll never know for sure.

He couldn't bring himself to show his face at the hospital, or the funeral.

I was hatched by your warmth,
And I was transformed.

Why? Why did he do it? How could he have brought himself to that point, to saying those words? He may never know.

Somewhere along the way, the usual shouting of their arguments morphed into throwing; both weapons and words alike.

Both hurt equally.

But you're grounded and giving
And darkening scorn.

So here he is now, a week after Nico's burial, letting the rain wash over him as it does to his lover's gravestone.

Slowly, he drops to his knees, placing the palm of one hand to the rough stone, engraved simply with Nico's name.

Remember me love, when I'm reborn,

Will might just stay there, until he becomes a part of the earth, just like Nico.

As a shrike to your sharp and glorious thorn.