Second (History Plays, Book 1)

23: so shall my eyes receive their last content

Edward
"There's been a fight. The boy you're looking for was involved."
"Let me see him then—-how is he? Let me see him if he's injured—I'll care for him it doesn't matter he's not going to be locked up if he's hurt take me to him," I attempt to crawl across the desk. Two people are already restraining me.
"What is his condition?" My sister asks, flatly.
"The paramedics could not get any vitals, due to his condition—,"
"No," I can hear my throat catching. No.
No.
No.
'No.
No.
No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.
No. Gaveston. No.
They cannot take him from me. No. Not because of me. I won't even pretend, it wasn't to do with me. I won't pretend my sister or my step mother didn't pay the guards long since to watch that fight go on, to delay an ambulance. They would have. Have to clean up any loose ends? And they killed him. They killed him. How dare they take my Gaveston from me? How dare they take his precious life his only crime was loving me?
I realize I'm screaming, as the drop me to the ground. Limp. I care for nothing now. I cannot live with myself not as the cause of his death. Why should the one person who truly loved me be torn from me thus? And I do not get to hold him?
I am conscious of being hauled to my feet and into the limo. I do not move freely nor intentionally, weeping instead and just cradling my face in my hands I can neither look at myself nor forgive my heart for beating when his does not. I am conscious of the ambulance pulling out of the drive ahead of us.
Lights off.
Lights off.
As in the person in there, is already dead. And there is nothing to save.
That does not stop me from trying to dive out and go to it, throw the doors open, and hold him in my arms again. But my sister and her driver do stop me from doing that. And they haul me back in and then we pull away. I curl up on the seats, just sobbing bitterly.
"You're not even going to ask where we're going?" My sister asks, flatly.
"You have already taken the only thing I wanted," I sob.
"Our father would be ashamed of you. He didn't weep for our mother like you do this boy," she scoffs, "Your infatuation is a disgrace."
"Then let me be known the world over as a disgrace and a coward and every other word you like but let them know Edward did love his Gaveston, my precious one, and let them paint our names in the stars and tell our story because his short sweet life should mean something," I say, my voice cracking, "Surely, our story meant that?"
"Like all lurid, awful, sinful tales, you will be spoken, in whispers of. And then swiftly forgotten, they tell stores about heroes, and kings. About great men, who win wars and women, who accomplish great deeds. Not about men like you, we don't talk about men like you," she says.
"Good, I don't want people like you to think of me," I say, digging my fingers into my skull as hot tears run down my face. "You know what? Perhaps they will need to wait. A century. Or a year. Or whatever time it takes. Because you, and everyone like you, doesn't deserve him. Because while you don't talk about them, we do. We tell our hushed tales of Achilles and his love for Patroclus, for Heracles loved Hylas, the Roman Tully loved Octavius, grave Socrates wild Alcibiades, and great Alexander loved Hephæstion, and someday they will speak of Edward and his Gaveston someday our names will rhyme with theirs in that sacred, whisper of loves that deserved to be had far more than the likes of you that cut them down deserve to breath."
"And what do you plan to do about it?" She asks, coolly, not even denying her involvement.
"Me? I have no plans, I have nothing anymore, I shall die I suppose. As I lived just a star praying the rest of his constellation does surround him with glory, and waiting for the day my light reaches earth. Now? Nothing, you have taken the one thing I ever wanted my only hope of a life and future, I can exact no revenge let the poets do that I give them my tragedy."
"You always were a dramatic child. We should have known you were queer."
"Are you not going to kill me?" I ask.
"Perhaps."
"A thousand deaths scream in silence behind that command; the option means it shall be exacted. I'm no fool."
"If you were no fool, then you wouldn't be here."

Teddy

"Edward still isn't back, where have you been?" I find Isabella in the sports complex. There's no practice today for obvious reasons.
"I'm sorry, I didn't know you were looking for me," Isabella says, wiping her  face with her hands.
"I'm not even going to ask if Mortimer is somehow responsible because you'll say you don't know and I think he probably is," I say.
"I'm not sorry he did it, but no I don't know," she says.
"How are you not sorry? They took Gaveston, he never did anything to you—oh fuck me—," I put my hands to my head, "You were jealous, all this time? You had that awful a crush on Edward so you were jealous of Gaveston?"
"It's not like he's gone for good," she says.
"I'm not doing this right now," I say, turning to leave.
"Teddy—-what are you going to do?" She asks, following me.
"I haven't decided," I snarl, barely pausing so she can follow me out the door.

Clare

"What?" Mannix and I are in Dean Alleyn's office, with Father Thomas.
"Windsor isn't in his dorm, we're summoning him here to tell him," Dean Alleyn says, standing up.
"He's dead?" Mannix says, tears in her eyes, "Gaveston's dead?"
"Our last update from the penitentiary is that they called an ambulance and that he was not conscious or responsive when paramedics arrived. The nature of his injuries made it impossible to perform CPR, or anything of the kind," Father Thomas says, clearly disgusted, "His family has shared no more updates as yet and they weren't letting them see him, again due to the extent of his injuries. It's going to be a few hours before they can even identify him."
"But they're helping him right—? You said—,"
"Last I got they were trying but he lost a lot of blood and suffered, massive internal injuries, nor did he ever regain consciousness," Father Thomas says, glancing at Dean Alleyn, "Have you gotten anything more recently?"
"He did not survive, no," Dean Alleyn says, "I received an official call from the police, as it has to do with the case."
"No—no," I shake my head, tears rolling down my face as I back towards the door.
"As you're also friends with Windsor we'd like it if you were here while we told him," Dean Alleyn says.
"No—I wanna go see him, if he's dead. I need to go see him he needs—," my socks. He won't have his clothes and he likes taking my socks. I start crying at that. "I need to go see him."
"We can't do anything now," Mannix says, wrapping her arms around me. "Hey, we can't do anything for him right now."
"No—no, they didn't let me see my dad, please," I say.
"Where's Edward?" Mannix asks.
"Ms. Clare took him, to be with family. He's taking it rather hard she said," Dean Alleyn says.
"No—we are family—he needs us," I say, "And what about Gaveston? His family doesn't know what clothes he likes—or that stupid music he plays. We need to go be with him, he's alone. He doesn't like hospitals he hates being locked up."
"Coach Marlowe went to talk to his family," Father Thomas says, "He's going to be at the hospital so we can get updates for all of you. We know you cared about him."
"Thanks," Mannix says.
"We need to go," I say, shaking, tears bubbling down my face.
There's a knock on the door. Father Thomas opens and Teddy steps in. We all pause, not knowing what to say. Teddy only needs to look at my face.
"No," he says, anger burning in his eyes.
"Your roommate, Piers Gaveston, passed away a couple of hours ago—,"
"No—-those mother fuckers—," Teddy promptly tries to leave. Father Thomas stops him.
"Come here," Mannix says, "Right now."
Teddy does, letting us both hug him. But his body is stiff and wired with anger.
"You're not going to stay in your room tonight, Gaveston's family will be by to collect his things.'
"No, nobody touches, his fucking things," Teddy says. A side note, Gaveston would be so proud of how many times Teddy has cussed in front of Dean Alleyn in the last thirty seconds, the only time he'll ever get away with it either. 
"For now you'll stay in a spare room, your other roommate is going to be away for a few days," Dean Alleyn says, "Your friends here may go with you to pack your things."
"Yeah, okay," Teddy becomes dangerously calm. Mannix and I have seen him fence so we're understandably concerned. "Where is Edward, again?"
"With my mom," I growl.
"Oh that's great," very sarcastically, "Okay um—yeah I'm going to need to get my things and also can you explain to how my last roommate was murdered? Because that's significant to me?"
"A prison riot, in the place they held him," Dean Alleyn says.
"Right. Right. Understandable. Okay, and you haven't heard from Edward?" Teddy asks.
"He's with family, as we said," Dean Alleyn says.
"There's a room on my floor of Dover house, why don't we get you set up there?" Father Thomas says, nicely.
"Can Kent stay with me?" Teddy asks.
"What—?"
"He's Edward's brother, from the other house, it would mean a lot if he could stay with us? We'll both be upset and he's our friend," Teddy says.
"That might not be possible—," Dean Alleyn frowns.
"I don't see an issue with him staying over, it's a three person room, I'll stay, do the paperwork, why don't you three get Teddy moved?" Father Thomas says, handing us a room key.
We take that opportunity to run. Teddy dries his tears.
"This is murder and I will be revenged," Teddy informs us, before stalking on ahead.
"Great sentiment but like how?" Mannix asks.
"I don't know. Yet."