Insomnia - challenge #127 (PG)

[redwinter101]

Title: Insomnia
Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters
A/N: written for champagne challenge #127, incorporating the words wire, uniform and heat. Not all sleepless nights are unwanted.


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--- Insomnia ---


It won't be long now.

A slow glance at the clock: 2:43 a.m.

The luminous points circle too fast, ticking away my breath, my life. Stifling heat broken by a cool whisper of breeze against my parchment skin. Remembrances, lost and recovered, cherished now in the safety of my ending. I can pause, take my time this final night.

They think I don't know. The hushed conversations just outside my door, the judicious doctors and nurses who no longer meet my eye, the platitudes they think will fool an old woman into slipping away quietly. A hot tear trickles across my cheek at the realisation that at some point, I ceased to be a person. I became a vigil.

I don't blame them; no-one can deny I've lived a long life. There's no tragedy here, or so they think. I can sense their expectation of some great pronouncement of my joy at meeting my lost husband in the afterlife. Tears turns to a giggle I can barely hold in. Of all the ridiculous notions I've heard in my lifetime, that just about takes the cake. Only the desperate, the rapt and the foolish long for death and I'm none of those. The guilty carry their secrets and prepare to settle their accounts. My account isn't with God but with Ray and with Mick.

All the years and all the sleepless nights Ray and I shared, alone now, this one I have longed for and long-planned. Still, calm, welcome, yet it ticks by so fast. A sharp stab of pain across my belly tempts me to reach for the week's supply of morphine saved up and stashed away, but I need to think, to settle my debts, to be ready. The curtain flutters, disturbed by the breeze and I can hear the soft drizzle soothing away the grime of another day.

The memory of his cool touch stirs, still with the power to bring flame to my cheeks after all these years. It isn't Ray's gentle care that floods my thoughts now.

"Mick."

It's the first time I've said his name out loud in over fifty years. So much hush in this room these last, long weeks and his name sounds soft and loud against the darkness. The warmth and light of youth peeks in, gently at first then stronger, kinder. In memory, the sun always shines but never burns.

A wisp of blossom-scented air. I know it's my imagination, sense memory's kindest trick, but it staves off the nausea that lingers in the clear-eyed night.

It was a lifetime ago. God, we were so young. The three of us, united against the world. Unbreakable, or so we thought. Child to man in the blink of memory's too-fast show, there they stand, Ray and Mick. Uniforms pristine, starchy, unbroken. Smiling bravely, hiding their fear, confident in their invincibility. We were all afraid, in our own ways. I for them, they for me and, most of all, for each other. Even now, after all these years, it still clutches at my heart to think of them that day. The last day of our dream life before the rest of the world intervened and screwed everything up.

But that's not really true. I wish I could blame it all on war, on fate, on foreign generals who would never know our names, but as my last hours tick by, it's time to accept my part. Apportioning blame always seemed like a waste of energy when there was work to be done and life to be lived. As my living draws to its end, now, its allure is inexorable.

That day was the first time Ray and I ever argued. It was all I could think of when I got the news he'd been killed in action - that the last day we'd spent together was marred by a stupid argument.

"Mick St. John - a medic," I'd teased. "Always-first-into-a-fight, heart-worn-on-his-sleeve, never-lay-down, don't-know-how-to-get-beat Mick St. John - a medic." And I'd laughed. Mick, too. It was the first joke we shared without Ray.

"Leave him be, Lilah. You don't know what you're talking about. Medics carry the heaviest burden." He had no way of knowing that, not then, but his instinctive protection shouldn't have surprised me. They were a secret society with a membership of two; their own rules, their own rituals. And they let me join. I'd seen so many foolish girls try to pull their sweethearts closer, away from their buddies while I got to enjoy the secret thrill of being welcomed inside.

As I lay here now, surrounded by my past, neatly framed and presented for inspection, I yearn for the girl I was then, even as I relish the woman I became. I found strength I never thought possible but it's that day, sharp and clear that marked the end of our beginning.

After so long together, the three of us, inseparable, unbreakable, it was me who tore us apart. I told myself it was luck, or God's will, or just the bloody unfairness of war but I know in my heart, as I knew then, that I'd broken us all in different, irreparable ways. Hard on the heels of the darkest battle of his life, Ray should have come home to unbridled joy. Instead he found unanswered questions and painful adjustment to a life he'd never planned.

The first two years were the toughest, his sorrow and his pain, wrapped tight as razor wire around our lives, refusing to let go, choking, struggling for breath. The life we'd imagined was gone forever and we were adrift. The empty space where Mick should have been, the silent, constant reminder that nothing would ever be the same again. I think that hurt Ray more than any of the damage of war; he'd lived through hell but losing Mick nearly ended him. Deflated, crumpled, desperate to understand, all the while closing his ears to the whispers he refused to hear.

"But you must know where he's gone," he'd ask most days, always hoping my silent, sad denial would change. But it never did. My sins were of omission, the truths I never told him and I'm content I did right. It took a long time for him to stop asking; I still don't know what he came to accept as the truth, but thankfully, it was a truth he could live with.

I never tried to find Mick. I folded him up and tucked him away in a secret corner deep inside. I knew he was there, safe and untouched in memory, so small, so hidden. My secret shame and my secret joy. It was the only thing to do.

Ray and I lived a good life, all in all. I made sure of it. It was the least and the most I could do. He was a good man; my companion, my husband, my lover and my friend. We raised a child together; we built a home and family, made friends and even a few enemies along the way; we did the thousands of everyday things that go to make up a life. And we mourned together when the news came about Mick's disappearance - the lurid stories, the pictures in the paper, his family's inconsolable grief.

That was the moment our lives began again. I never intended it that way and I still nurture my most secret guilt that it was the finite, tragic confirmation Mick wasn't coming back that allowed us to start over, to look forward, and to see each other as the man and woman we'd become.

I never told Ray I went there. To that hotel. To see for myself. To be sure.

But my courage deserted me. Or maybe I finally realised I didn't need to see a bloodstained bed to know our story was over. It had ended the day the telegram arrived announcing Ray was coming home. Mick knew it instantly and he was the one with the courage to act. For a long time I hated him for that strength, mistaking it for ease but now I know he was the bravest man I ever met. He gave us back our lives and asked for nothing in return. All those years, mostly happy, luckier than a lot of folks and probably more than I had any right to expect, and now, here, as the night draws to a close I can finally let the memories come and say my prayer of thanks to him.

4:08am.

This blessed, insomniac night is nearly over, but it isn't sleep that beckons. I know it's just my fading strength playing tricks but I swear he's here, a face in the shadows, drawing closer, his warm, wistful smile unchanged by time and age. His trained hands, a carer's hands, a lover's hands. Ever-young in memory I can almost feel his fingers through my hair, cool and calm. He's come to hold my hand as my breath fades to silence. I close my eyes, a final smile, a brush of his lips against my cheek.

It's time for me to go. To go to Ray.

Finally I can release my burden and say the words denied me for so long.

"Goodbye, Mick."

[PNWgal]

Well hell, Red....this was all kinds of beautiful.

I ceased to be a person. I became a vigil.

A fate none of us want, but all of us are destined for. Those two short phrases made me shiver.

So much hush in this room these last, long weeks and his name sounds soft and loud against the darkness. The warmth and light of youth peeks in, gently at first then stronger, kinder. In memory, the sun always shines but never burns.

This is lovely. Memories seem always better than the reality that generated them, and I can completely understand Lilah's warm memories of loving Mick.

After so long together, the three of us, inseparable, unbreakable, it was me who tore us apart. I told myself it was luck, or God's will, or just the bloody unfairness of war but I know in my heart, as I knew then, that I'd broken us all in different, irreparable ways. Hard on the heels of the darkest battle of his life, Ray should have come home to unbridled joy. Instead he found unanswered questions and painful adjustment to a life he'd never planned.

I love this. Lilah is nothing if not practical and takes full responsibility for what happened to her, to Ray, and to Mick. The difference between her and Mick is she learned to live with what she did, and moved forward...if not for herself, then for Ray. I'm not sure Mick ever did.

I never tried to find Mick. I folded him up and tucked him away in a secret corner deep inside. I knew he was there, safe and untouched in memory, so small, so hidden. My secret shame and my secret joy. It was the only thing to do.

And this is where I reached for a hanky, because it made me so sad. When love doesn't work out, you never really lose it...you just tuck it away in some corner of your heart and you go on, because there's really nothing else to be done. But...sometimes that love and those memories will steal your breath at the most inopportune time.

I know it's just my fading strength playing tricks but I swear he's here, a face in the shadows, drawing closer, his warm, wistful smile unchanged by time and age.

Is it? I wonder...

Just so, SO good.

[jen]

Red

That was heartbreaking.

And lovely.

For the first couple of paragraphs, even after the mention of Ray, I was still somehow thinking of Beth approaching the end of her life not having been Turned, that this 'Ray' she spoke of was a man she would meet and marry, then when you spoke of Ray, Mick and the dying woman being a threesome, a team everything slipped into sharp focus.

Of course.

The eloquence of friendship--Ray's devestation at losing his closest friend, coupled with his refusal to listen to the whispered explanations sounds very plausible, as does the fact of Mick's apparent demise being the point at which their marriage started over and they started to heal.

Sometimes, the heart just knows.

And knowing, chooses to believe otherwise.

Beautiful.

Thank you.

Jenna

[AussieJo]

Superb!

[MickLifeCrisis]

When I realized where this was going, I tried to tell myself I could handle it. I wasn't going to cry. But seeing as how Red wrote it, I should have known better. By the end I could hardly see and the tears were flowing down my cheeks.

Ray hurt that his friend Mick didn't come around when he returned home.

How reading about Mick's disappearance allowed them to start over, really start over.

Lilah being mad at Mick for leaving when they heard the news of Ray surviving, thinking it was easy for him. But now at the end realizing how brave he really was.

And then Mick showing up at her side to stroke her hair and kiss her goodbye. Because I absolutely believe he was there.

Oh heck, now I need another tissue just from writing my comment.

Absolutely perfect in every way.

[allegrita]

I read this on my phone because I couldn't wait till I got home. And oh, Red... I'm crying for the tragedy of all their lives, and for the thoughts of what might have been. And smiling through the tears, because I love Lilah. She is just as strong as Mick, and she did her duty and managed to turn a tragedy into a full and happy life.

But despite her loyalty to Ray-- or maybe because of it-- it didn't surprise me one bit that her final thoughts, her final words were of Mick. She needed to settle up her accounts, and that was the ultimate in unfinished business.

Truly, in some ways I believe Mick and Lilah are the seminal relationship of Moonlight, and this story does full justice to it.

This one will stick with me for a long time.

[maggatha3]

OH, red, that was wonderful..you broke my poor heart! I thought it was Beth dying for a while, then realised it was actually Lilah. Mick gave his girls so much love and recieves love from them - almost all of them. He is her last memory of life, his name the last word to pronounce before dying. Devoting the last moments of her life to the most precious I 'd guess. And he is right there, not her imagination, a caring Mick, always by the ones he loves, sharing the pain..Hell, I ached through it, can only imagine what they must have felt

[redwinter101]

PNWgal, thanks for the lovely comment, honey. You've written such beautiful stories for Lilah so I'm super-delighted that you enjoyed this one.

I know it's just my fading strength playing tricks but I swear he's here, a face in the shadows, drawing closer, his warm, wistful smile unchanged by time and age.

Is it? I wonder...

Well, a little ambiguity never hurt anyone, right?

jen,

Sometimes, the heart just knows.

And knowing, chooses to believe otherwise.

That is such a perfect description of Mick, Lilah and Ray - for all of them, in so many ways, their love for each other was unavoidable and inevitable - as was their need to move on. Thank you.

AussieJo, thanks, honey.

MLC, I always feel bad for making you cry, honey - but always just a little bit thrilled, too. It's so wonderful to know that a story has moved you - because it means I'm being true to these amazing characters, who still never fail to move me.

alle, that's so lovely, thank you - I love your description of Mick and Lilah as the seminal relationship of Moonlight. I think you're right - it led to so much of the man we see today - and accounts for the steps and mis-steps that brought him there. Even though I do believe Ray and Lilah managed to find happiness together, you're right - it's still a tragedy for all of them.

maggatha3, I'm sorry for the heartbreak and very grateful that you stopped by to read.

Red

[francis]

Oh my. This is heartbreaking and beautiful. Lilah making peace with what was, and what wasn't. Thank you so much!

[wpgrace]

First of all, what a true picture of death you paint here. A poignant moment, inescapable, this one peaceful but still tinged with reluctant resignation at aging and dying, and with the more welcome memories, even of the bad stuff, because they are all memories of youth and life. And you know, I never really thought about it before, but Lilah had a very romantic, dramatic life...

Being involved, as part of the threesome they were, was no doubt a thrill, in its time, in her youth. I love this description of it, from her POV:

They were a secret society with a membership of two; their own rules, their own rituals. And they let me join. I'd seen so many foolish girls try to pull their sweethearts closer, away from their buddies while I got to enjoy the secret thrill of being welcomed inside.

That makes Ray's heartbreak, even more than Lilah's, at losing Mick so so resonant. For him to never quite understand why Mick went away, stayed away. At least Lilah knows. And she knew the gift Mick had given BY staying away, so that she could settle into a quieter life with Ray, with Robert. But yet, Mick remained in her own mind's shadows. Of course he would.

His supposed death... well, his earlier disappearing act had insulated them from that a little bit. As always, Mick carries the burdens...
Ray knew this about his friend and had stood up for him, even arguing with his wife:

"Leave him be, Lilah. You don't know what you're talking about. Medics carry the heaviest burden." He had no way of knowing that, not then, but his instinctive protection shouldn't have surprised me.

But Lilah had just been teasing... and it's cool to see that she, too, knew what a hero Mick was by nature:

Mick knew it instantly and he was the one with the courage to act. For a long time I hated him for that strength, mistaking it for ease but now I know he was the bravest man I ever met. He gave us back our lives and asked for nothing in return.

And his visit... and I believe it is his visit and not her imagination cuz it IS Mick we're talking about here... how wonderful for her at the end to feel him as she peacefully, knowingly, if not willingly, fades.

I wonder tho, does he have ANY idea that her last thoughts, her last and greatest remembrances of joy and youth and happiness and gratitude and loss, are all about HIM? Not Ray, not her son, but Mick. He's been a centerpiece of her life, in absentia, all those years. And now he's the centerpiece of her own passing. I wish there was some way for him to know that. I think it would shock him, maybe confuse him a bit, but hopefully comfort him too. But it certainly does not shock or confuse us.

[redwinter101]

Thanks for reading, francis. "What was and what wasn't" kinda sums up a lotta things about Moonlight.

Grace, Lilah did indeed live a romantic, dramatic life - and (in this story anyway) managed to do something I think a lot of us would struggle to comprehend - she loved Mick and lost him and still found a way to go on. ITA about Ray's heartbreak - how hard it must have been. He lost his best friend from all those years, the man who saved his life, and he never knows why.

I wonder tho, does he have ANY idea that her last thoughts, her last and greatest remembrances of joy and youth and happiness and gratitude and loss, are all about HIM? Not Ray, not her son, but Mick. He's been a centerpiece of her life, in absentia, all those years. And now he's the centerpiece of her own passing. I wish there was some way for him to know that. I think it would shock him, maybe confuse him a bit, but hopefully comfort him too. But it certainly does not shock or confuse us.

That's such a beautiful question to ponder. It would be so lovely to think that he did know that - although from what we saw in the show, his memories are too filled with regret for it really to be true, I think. But it's a lovely dream nonetheless.


Red

[one.zebra]

Red, this is really beautiful. I'm not crying like the others though....

This is life...paths walked..and unwalked. Joys, sorrows, love, triumphs and regrets. Together and then at the end, even if we're surrounded by loved ones,....we walk the last bit alone.

I've become more reflective, now that I have more than five decades behind me and almost 35 years of (a challenging) marriage. I have all of the above and now the joy of chasing around three redheaded grandsons, they will (most likely) be around long after I've walked that last bit alone.

Thanks to MLC who pointed this out to me! (smooches)

[wpgrace]

Hmmmm... you are so right, OZ... that IS life. And Lilah may have fewer regrets than some people because Mick made the hard decision so that she didn't have to.

But you've given me another thought too. As much as Mick mourns his own humanity, would he really want to face this moment? We all will face this moment... and yeah, even an "immortal" will at some point too... but he gets a lot of do-overs, as an immortal, that we don't.

So, I wonder if he will ever come to appreciate THAT. To realize that whatever life he eventually ends up living, he's had a few more chances to hone it, to change it, to perfect it, to correct it, than the rest of us get.

Red always writes pieces that get us thinking, no?

[redwinter101]

Thanks, OZ, and heartfelt thanks to MLC for the recommendation. As you say we all walk the last bit alone. I think it's Mick's tragedy that so much of the rest of his path has been walked alone, too.

Grace, I think that's Mick dilemma. He knows, or thinks he knows, what it will mean for him to be mortal, not just in terms of eventual death, but in having a consequence to every action - it's not just love that can't exist without mortality: it's life. Without a knowledge of an ending, can there be the same meaning to today? I think that's what Mick longs for and that longing prevents him from appreciating the opportunity to "get it right". Although I do think his brief experience of the cure might have given him a greater appreciation of the benefits of vampirism, but only in terms of invincibility in the present. I think the perfect solution, the only thing that would resolve his conflict, would be to live as a vampire who ages at the same rate as a human.

But then there'd be no Moonlight.

Red

[wpgrace]

Well then, that just would not do.