Worth Living For

This was perfect.  Perfect, perfect, perfect!  Maya placed the final note from Mia in her usual safe-place, where no one would care to look, even if they were feeling snoopy.  This plan, she couldn't really remember how it came to mind, it was so long ago, but it was finally ready to be put into place.  How would he react?  Well, you never will know until you try.

* * * *

Godot was finally free.  His excellent behavior, dedication to community service time, and overall cooperation with the law cut short his sentence time by a decent amount, but it was all the same to him.  After all, what did he have left anymore?  No job to speak of (he refused the prisoner reintroduction services), his health never improved and probably never would, what friends were there to speak of?  Little Maya, (well, she isn't so little these days, he thought), she had written him so faithfully all these years, and even visited with Wright and Pearl when she could, but can you be friends across paper and behind Plexiglas?  He did feel relieved to still have possession of his family's home, but even that was nothing but a shell haunted by happy memories of times long dead...

The place was musty but relatively dust-free when he first arrived.  He had thrown open all the windows and doors to air it out, but the sight of the unkempt, parched land surrounding the house was too depressing.  He carelessly yanked the dust-covers off an easychair, leaving them where they fell on the hardwood floor.  He set his third cup on the endtable next to him and plopped down with a heavy sigh.  He was bored, tired, without purpose.  He took a deep drink before removing his visor.  The sight of neglect around him was no longer tolerable.  At least the breeze through the house and the faint sound of birds was relaxing.

* * * *

Was this really it?  So far out of the way...and the yard was a wasteland.  But Maya knew she couldn't be mistaken.  Though Mia's visual description had been of a happier place surrounded by life, the house itself and the address numbers thereupon were absolute.  She couldn't be mistaken.  Maya wiped any doubt from her mind as she began the process of channeling her elder sister.  "Do whatever you need, and take all the time in the world," was what she had written to Mia last.  And she meant it.  They deserved this after the things they'd endured.  Maya had often felt useless, but this time she was doing something full of purpose and completely worthwhile.  That's what she thought with a smile as she slipped from consciousness.

* * * *

The transition from the land of the dead to that of the living was always a little jolting.  It was hard to get used to since you can't quite adapt and grow from past experiences when you don't have your own body.  But Mia was always expecting it, so she didn't bat an eye as she took in her surroundings.  The area around her was in disarray, dead, uncared for, but not surprising.  The familiar threshold was still there, beckoning her as in old days.  She was a little puzzled to see the front door standing wide open, but she took it as an invitation and made her way up the front steps.

Maya's soft shoes made little noise on the floorboards as Mia found her way around the house.  It'd been many, many years but she remembered the layout fairly well and soon found herself facing the back of a chair, a shock of white hair pouring over the top.  She didn't know whether to cry or smile.  She had spoken to this man in the courtroom, in his changed state, she had visited him daily in the hospital, then weekly, when it finally settled in that he would never wake up (Such lies, she thought with bitter irony).  But even so, being reminded of what had happened to the one who was so precious to her...

Trying to keep a happy aura, she quietly approached the chair.

He was obviously asleep.  Mia peeked over his shoulder without a sound; his mouth hung the slightest bit open, breathing gently.  He wasn't wearing the visor he had worn in court; it sat next to a cold cup of coffee on the nearby endtable.  Instead she could see the white line that had been drawn across his face, the wound that had bought Maya's life.

With that thought, Mia gently slid her arms down his shoulders and whispered, "Diego~"

He jolted a bit, eyes still closed.  Was that a dream?  Impossible.  The heat on his shoulders and chest, the scent coming from behind him.  It was unmistakable.  But he couldn't believe it.  It was a dream.

Mia tightened her arms around him, snuggling her face deep against his neck.  Her words reverberated in his bones, "Diego, here I am."

He was upright in a flash, Mia moving seamlessly with him.  He wasn't sure whether to scramble for his visor or just reach up and hold her face in his hands, "Kitten!  Mia!"  He reached up with both hands, gripping her arms, making sure this was real and not another nightmare.  Mia smiled widely.  His icy eyes couldn't see that smile, but he could sense a shadow block the light as Mia rounded the chair, leaning down and grabbing him up in a secure embrace.  She slid to her knees as the strength of his arms enveloped her.

Diego spoke shakily into Mia's shoulder, "Kitten, why--are you here?"  As he felt the tears threatening to spill, he buried his face in her shoulder; maybe, somehow, to push them back so he could be strong, as in forgotten days...

But Mia was strong enough now.  She stroked his hair gently, breathing calmly, being strong for him this time.  "Diego, it's-" but the words changed without her permission, "-always been so hard without you--"  Mia felt her throat clench as Diego's sob pierced through her.  Even now, after life, if he couldn't hold it together, how could she?  She futilely squinted her eyes, warmth flowing over despite.  She gripped the folds of his shirt ever more tightly, pulling herself as close as possible.  Diego shook with each breath, quietly calling her name, her pet name...Mia...Kitten...

They were both fighting, desperately.  Fighting to keep time from moving, trying to kill the passage of the inevitable.  That it was impossible only made them more frantic, hugging so closely, calling each other's names, rocking gently back and forth as they wept, feeling their skin and muscles caress beneath layers of cloth, absorbing the heat that only got hotter as they fought on...

Diego lifted his head and slid his fingers through Mia's hair, watery eyes staring blindly forward.  After a quiet moment of distant birds and rustling fabric, he asked, "Kitten, will you stay with me tonight?"

Mia pulled herself up, wiping the last tears from her eyes, "Of course," she replied, smiling.

* * * *

The day was easy to spend together.  They brightened up Diego's house, made it cheery and warm.  For dinner they ordered out and Mia dared to sample Diego's most extreme blends of coffee.  She learned the intricacies of his visor and how it helped him see.  He laughed endearingly as he listened to her dizzily try to traverse the room with it on.  Diego was a little abashed when it came time to take his night medications, but promptly received a strict, but loving lecture from Mia about keeping up with his health.

But "Eventually" haunted every happy moment; a dark specter in the back of their thoughts, a silent note in every laugh.  Eventually, she would have to go.  Eventually, he would have to be alone again.  And Eventually was creeping dreadfully close to them as they curled up together under blankets and moonlight.

Mia rested her head on his chest, eyes closed and lips smiling, savoring every beat of his heart.  Diego held her hand in his own, stroking the gentle curves with his thumb, feeling the warmth emanating from her skin.  It could have been seconds or hours that they enjoyed the simple bliss of each others' existence.  But that very thought was what pierced painfully through Diego's heart.

He knew, too soon, she would disappear to the land of the dead once again...

"Kitten,"

Mia felt the word rumble softly through his chest.

"I don't think--," he sucked in a breath, trying to steady his words, "I can't..." his words trembling regardless, "I can't continue this life without you here.  There's nothing left to live for..."  Without a word he felt the touch of soft lips against his own.  Mia's hand softly traced his face as they kissed, along his jaw, his cheekbones, his browline.  He felt tears forming again, but they were kissed away with a butterfly touch.  Mia painted him with affection, reassuring him in his dark world that, at least for this moment, she was truly here.

Mia pulled him close to her, cradling his head against her chest.  She whispered into his soft hair, "Diego, life is precious.  Love and hate, joy and sorrow, each should be cherished."  She paused for a moment, curving her neck and pressing her cheek against his brow, "The world is wide; there's always something to live for."

* * * *

The two lovers stayed entwined until the break of dawn.  Mia left Diego with those words, knowing he would continue his life the right way, the fullest way, until the day he was destined to enter the land of the dead on his own right.

Diego awoke to the scent of coffee.  After finding his visor, he made his way to the kitchen where a bustling, cheerful Maya was preparing breakfast.  When she saw him, she pulled on the biggest smile and handed him a cup.

"Blend #42..." he stated simply, recognizing the scent and staring with childlike wonder at the brew in his hand.

"She told me it was her favorite," Maya said with a little wink, "and she said, it's one thing of many," she smiled and pushed Diego's gaping mouth up playfully, "worth living for."