Gray Roses: A Falsettos Oneshot

Gray Roses

TW: SUICIDE!!! Please don't read if it will be triggering.

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Every one knew about the soulmate rule.

You met the person you were supposed to be with for the rest of your life and your world went poof, into color. Of course, you got brief flashes of color at other times too, when you were really happy, with your best friend, pale imitations of the 'real world' when you had a crush. People always said how striking it was to see the brilliance of color after years of gray. 

Marvin had never seen the colors before Whizzer. Not once. No flashes of yellow when his mother smiled, hints of blue in the sky when he got a good grade, or blinks of red when he kissed a girl. He saw nothing when he met Trina for the first time. He knew it should have been a red- or rather, gray- flag. But he didn't think it mattered. He wasn't ever going to see the colors, so why bother?

Then he met him. Marvin gasped out loud at the sight of the world bursting into vivid, bright color. The sky was a purer blue than he had ever believed, the pink of a billboard was blinding, and the green of Whizzer's shirt was a more perfect color than Marvin could have imagined. 

Whizzer almost didn't notice, used to people being startled by his good looks. But he felt drawn to Marvin in a way he couldn't explain. Even after everything they had been through, Whizzer couldn't deny it. He saw the colors too.

Of course, Marvin tried to deny it at first. He had a wife, a son, even as much as he wished he didn't. He wasn't gay. There had to be some other explanation.

He was wrong.

When he kicked Whizzer out, it took him a week to notice that the colors were gone. It wasn't until Jason's baseball game that he saw the first bit of color he had seen in almost two years. Whizzer walked out in that all-too-sexy leather jacket with a gorgeous pink shirt that hugged his chest, and that crooked smile that made Marvin weak in the knee's. Marvin's first thought was that his socks didn't match, looking down to avoid eye contact with Whizzer.

The world was vibrant and as gorgeous as Whizzer's hair in the months that followed. Marvin couldn't remember being happier. He felt weightless and lightheaded whenever Whizzer walked in the room. He saw stars when they kissed. As he fell more in love with Whizzer, he fell more in love with the colorful world they got to share.

But it didn't last.

Whizzer got sicker and sicker, losing dangerous amounts of weight. Growing weaker everyday. He didn't seem like he would ever recover, and when Charlotte finally confirmed this fact, Marvin broke down. He felt powerless, doomed to watch as the love of his life grew closer to death, knowing there was nothing he could do about it. Whizzer grew paler as the life drained out of him, but he looked palest through Marvin's eyes.

Marvin placed the red rose onto the tombstone at his funeral. It looked as gray to him as the granite slab Whizzer was buried under. His lover was dead, and the colors had died with him.

He sits at the foot of Whizzer's grave, sobbing. A leather jacket tailored for a man much taller than him envelopes his shaking frame. Red roses lay across the ground, scattered as if in a strong wind. Petals form a winding trail through the cemetery.

The headstone is cold against his back, seeping through the jacket as if infecting him with what killed Whizzer. The arms of death have already twined around him, growing stronger each day. Charlotte is right, the disease won't leave him alive much longer. It's too late. The disease won't have a chance to claim his life.

"I'm sorry Whizzer. I'm so sorry," He manages to choke out. Tears fall softy on the paper, smearing his uneven scrawl even further. He repeats his words with pen on his paper. 'Mendel, I'm sorry. Trina, I'm sorry. Charlotte, Cordelia, I'm sorry. Jason, I'm so so so so so sorry. Be good for your mom. You're going from three dads to one.' He gasps for breath, inhaling salt, barely able to scribble out the last words. 'I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough.'

His shaky hands slip the letter into a plastic bag to protect it from the elements. Who knows how long it will be before they find him.But he can't think about that. He'll be with Whizzer then. Nothing else matters.

He sits in silence for a moment, his breathing settling. Memories of Whizzer dance through his mind. The early, tumultuous first stages of their relationship. The way he felt when Whizzer left the first time, like someone had scooped out his chest and left a hollow cavity. How Whizzer lit up his life when he came back. The way a little piece of his heart died when Whizzer collapsed on the racquetball court. How he held Whizzer's hand until the very end, and how he felt Whizzer's heart stop even before the machines did. All the things he still had to say, but had run out of time to express. He figures now is as good a time as any.

"Before you...before you were gone," he starts, not able to say the words. Not able to confirm Whizzer's death aloud. He knows that once he says the words he can't take them back. "You told me that at least death means you'll never be scared of dying again." The images of Whizzer shriveling up in a hospital bed, tied down with miles of tubing, rise up from his memories once again. "I'm not scared." He thinks for a moment and then continues. "Well, I'm not scared of dying, anyway." He swallowed. 

"I'm terrified of living. Of being on this earth one more day without you. Of waking up to an empty bed without you beside me. Of watching my reflection grow older, and your pictures never aging a day. Of seeing Jason grow up and get married and be happy, and you never getting to see it." He starts to cry again.

"I'm scared of living because it's not living if you're gone."

He shakes them out of the bottle in his pocket. One, two, the amount he's supposed to take. He needs more. Numbing the pain isn't an option anymore. He needs to make it stop. Forever.

Three, then four. He thinks of Cordelia, losing her best friends in a matter of weeks. He hopes she can forgive him. Maybe she'll cook for his funeral, too, like she did for Whizzer.

Five, six. Thinks of Charlotte, already feeling like she failed Whizzer. What is she going to think when she hears the news? He'll be just another gay man she watched die.

Seven. Mendel, he's a psychiatrist, it's his job to fix these kind of problems. He's supposed to be able to help him. Mendel can't fix his gray and black world.

Eight. Trina, finally starting to respect him. Finally believing he is good enough for Jason. She won't after this.

Nine, ten, eleven. Jason. Jason's heart breaking as they carried Whizzer away from the bar mitzvah. Jason screaming when Whizzer flatlined. Jason sobbing in tandem with Marvin. Jason crawling into Marvin's bed late at night. Jason placing the chess piece on Whizzer's grave. Jason showing up at Marvin's apartment for the weekend and not finding anyone. Jason finding his father at Whizzer's grave, both of them gone.

It's too late to turn back.  He swallows the pills, ignoring the bitter taste. He lays back down, blackness starting to obstruct the corners of his vision. His consciousness fades away. 

As he closes his eyes one last time, he swears he can feel Whizzer's arms fold around him, holding him close. He can hear his voice again, telling him there's nothing to fear.

Marvin takes his final breath and his heart stops beating.

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A/N:

....well that happened.

For once, I'm actually proud of something I've written. This is huge for my mental health honestly. I hope you guys like it too!

I took the soulmate tropes/AUs and made them darker I guess? Anyway, I don't ever write if it isn't on my phone or computer, and if I do it's rarely more than a few paragraphs, but I was so excited about this oneshot that I wrote the entire thing in class. I might have cried while writing it...and typing it....and editing it....its been a long week.

I also don't ever write in the present tense, but I feel like it makes Marvin's death so much more impactful and real? I guess?

(Saturday, March 17, 2018 8:40 PST)