FicWad

A/N: Yay! I actually managed to write two installments in one day! Although like...not really, 'cause I started "The Day Before You" last night. BUT STILL!

Disclaimer: I do not own the lyrics to "Yes I Do".

Song Used: Rascal Flatts' "Yes I Do".


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Twenty-Eight: Yes I Do
Puppet: Nicholas Jonas


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Do I cry, in the night?
Do I long to hold you tight?
Do I wake wanting you?
Yes I do...

“Please don't...”

She stopped her retreat and looked at me with eyes as cold as stone, chilling me to the very core and causing icy shivers to ripple up and down my backbone. She did not move, nor did she say anything in reply. She didn't need to; the imposing rigidity of her muscles and the unforgiving frigidness in her gaze said more than enough.

I helplessly stretched out a hand for her to take, silently pleading with my eyes for her to stop and reconsider. I needed her. This place was so strange and cold, what with these bare white walls and chilled wind. She couldn't just leave me here! “Please,” I begged again, dropping to my knees in submission, “please don't go.”

But she did.

She turned about and left.

“No!” My lonesome, brokenhearted sob suddenly turned into a scream of terror as the snow-colored ground under me gave way to a horrible, hungry, gaping blackness. For a moment, I felt as if I was suspended in midair, and then gravity took its course and I tumbled down, down into the darkness and into the mouth of what I was sure was some sort of monster...

I woke with a start that tossed back the sheets and made the old springs in my bed creak in angry protest, breathing hard and eyes wild as I tried to understand what had just taken place. I looked around, my skull aching as reality suddenly came flooding back to me, flooding and overloading my senses.

I was in my room. It was dark outside save the lone brave light coming from a street lamp just outside my window, which happened to be open. There were no bare white walls to trap me. There was no cold breeze to cut through my skin and chill my soul. There were no horrible, hungry, gaping holes eager to swallow me up.

It was just a nightmare.

But she had left me there to be eaten up, hadn't she? She'd ignored all my pleas for her to stay, hadn't she? She hadn't cared what happened to me, had she?

But she would've. She wouldn't have left me there. She wouldn't have ignored me. She would've cared what happened. I buried my face in my hands and emitted another sob, this one genuine and not one of the imagination.

I wish you'd been around to wake me up this time.

Do I recall every day?
How you took my breath away?
Do I remember loving you?
Yes I do...

I cried softly into the warm, firm flesh of my hands, hating the darkness for making me feel even more alone than I already was. A few tears slid past my hands and down my cheeks, the liquid cold on my skin and the salt bitter as it completed the journey down to my lips. The room was silent save the quiet sobs of its single occupant, creating an eerie air of solitude.

I sniffled pitifully and straightened suddenly, brushing away my tears with the back of my hand. The curtains were moving to and fro, disturbed by a slight gust of air and looking like ghosts dancing in the pale orange light. I watched them for a moment or two, glad for the temporary distraction. Without meaning to, my mind drew a parallel between the wavering of my curtains and that pretty blue dress she always wore to dances.

I had always liked that dress. It had been one of the many reasons I had looked forward to every dance, no matter how big or small. It fit her like a silken glove, I recalled, no matter how much her body changed shape over the years, as if charmed by some magic spell. It clung snugly to her skin and showed the world that its owner was prettier than she let on, but it did so without showing too much skin then what was proper. Its rich blue color had only further accented her eyes and the fabric felt of smooth silk. I remember holding her close and smelling the faint, sweet scent of strawberries, too.

Oh, yes. I remember time and time again how I'd waited patiently for her at the door of her father's house while he ventured inside to retrieve her. I'd always expected to see the same thing, but somehow, watching my angel glide down those steps in her familiar beautiful dress, with her flyaway hair up like it always was and sky blue eyes shining the way I'd seen so many times, never ceased to take my breath away.

I missed those moments. I missed them so much. I yearned to see her smile at me like I'd just handed her the moon. I ached for the times when we'd held one another in complete silence just to listen to the other's heart beating. I longed to kiss those smooth lips and feel her kiss me back just one more time. I wanted so much to tell her how much I loved her and to hear her say it back, just so I could refresh my memory.

I was beginning to forget what it felt like to be loved by her, and that hurt more than anything in the world.

Particularly because my love for her was still as fresh and eager as it'd been the day I'd admitted it to her all that time ago. There had been a time when I had thought that perhaps my feelings for her had died, but like the fiery phoenix they had risen from the ashes, revealing themselves again after it far too late it fix the damage I'd done.

The tears flowed freely and without obstruction now, having no fingers to escape from and plunging down my face as if it were all just some wonderful game. I didn't bother to try and stop them, either, knowing that it would be of no use.

I couldn't bear it any longer. I got up and closed the window, stilling the swirling curtains.

Yes I do dream of all we had together,
Yes it's true we've lost it all forever,
Do I pray anyway?
Yes I do...

We were supposed to be happy. I was going to ask her father for her hand. I was going to surprise her one special morning and take her for a drive to all her favorite places. We were going to go down to the beach once the day was over and the moon replaced his brother. I was going to tell her I loved her more than anything, go down on one knee and ask her to marry me. She would've said yes. I knew she would've. She would've kissed me and smiled at me the way I wished she still did.

But I'd lost her.

We were supposed to get married. I was going to watch her come down the aisle and remember all those times I'd seen her come down to meet me before going out. I was going to put on the wedding ring she'd never lose. I was going to look deeper into those captivating eyes than I ever had and tell her I would be hers until Death took me away. I was going to seal our lives together forever with a simple kiss that would be one of many we'd shared.

But I'd lost her.

We were supposed to last forever. I was going to share my house, my name, my bed with her. I was going to feel her warm presence sleeping peacefully next to me every night. I was going to wake up and see the early morning sunlight on her face every morning. I was going to be overjoyed when she told me our first baby was on the way. I was going to be the proud father of a youngster, perfect simply because it would've been ours. I was going to grow old with her.

But I'd lost her.

I sighed shakily and gently rubbed my temples, struggling to ward off the headache that was making my thoughts fuzzy and unclear. This was certainly not the first time I'd be awoken by a nightmare since we parted ways and chances were it wasn't going to be the last, but that didn't make it any less upsetting.

There were times when, in my dreams, it was she who abandoned me, usually to die or something stupid like that. Tonight had obviously been one of those times, though to be perfectly honest, I wasn't quite sure why my subconsciousness decided that it was her fault that I was hurting.

More often than not, however, it was the other way around. I was the one who left her. Once, I had had a surreal nightmare in which both Paige and Mac were present; a band of muggers attacked the three of us on the street and got a hold on both of them. It all had felt so real that I recall actually being able to feel the other man's rough, grabbing hands and smell the alcohol on his breath. In my dream, I had wriggled free and, despite my friends' cries for help, ran from the scene.

I'd woken up to gunshots.

I wondered what she would say if she knew she was torturing me in my dreams. Would she pity me? Laugh at me? Take me back?

I don't live in the past,
Wanting love that wouldn't last,
I don't ache like I used to,
Yes I do...

Although my original plan had been to walk away from the window as soon as I was done with it, I remained still and quiet where I stood. I peered outside the clean glass, my lips pressed tightly together as I thought. Somehow, tears still managed to squeeze through the barrier, making me cringe at the salty taste.

The street was as dark and gloomy as my room was, I noticed with a soft, rueful snort. It was late summer time and things were slowly starting to get cold again, so much of the leaves on the trees were just starting to change color. No longer were they the vibrant, healthy green they had been when the sun hadn't been hidden by the clouds. Rather, most of them had turned an ugly brown and some were shriveled and withered; mostly dead, but unwilling to let go.

Another intriguing parallel.

In a way, I suppose one could say that our love was like the leaves. It had started out nonexistent, like the bare branches during the winter. We had seen the other around but had never actually spoken, she being far too shy to impose herself on a pop star with better things to do and I being far too busy trying to keep up with Becca to notice her.

Then, when spring came, the cold snap (which I guess could've been compared to Becca) ended and gave the leaves a chance to grow. I noticed her and started sprinkled conversations with her so I could get to know her better. She returned the favor and things just happened to click for us. Friendship blossomed into something else, the way a bud blooms into a leaf.

Summer comes and the live giving rays of the sun allowed the tree to thrive, thus turning the leaves from small, weak newborns into larger, sturdier mature ones. Paige and I continued to learn more and more about one another and grew more and more comfortable with the other. What had seemed to be a simple high school crush kept growing into something far more serious.

The fall, marked by death on the 31st in the first place, is when things got colder again and the hapless leaves started to die out thanks to the lack of heat and energy. Paige left for school in another country thousands of miles away, leaving me cold and lonesome for her. I felt just as battered as the wrinkled leaves did and, like breaking the stem before the leaf flutters down to earth, left her.

I stopped loving her (or so I thought) and she, hurt and betrayed, stopped loving me, leaving the branches bare again and completing the circle of the seasons.

It had been a mistake. An awful, painful, stupid, selfish, unrepairable mistake. When my cycle started over again and I realized that winter hadn't really come at all for me, but she had completely moved on with a different boy and was happy, I realized the error of my ways.

But at that point, it was already too late.

Though perhaps if I had to question my love, it really wouldn't have worked out anyway.

Yes I do dream of all we had together,
Yes it's true we've lost it all forever,
Do I pray anyway?
Yes I do...

I suppose one could say I'd accepted the fact that she'd moved on. I had come to terms with both of them, after all.

I had no quarrel with Mac. He treated her well and never struck her or bullied her, as I'd been afraid he might. He kept her safe from harm as best he could, and from what I could tell gave her far more attention than I ever could, touring from place to place the way I did. He made her happy, and that was all that mattered.

I didn't hate her. I couldn't bring myself to. Love was stronger than hatred.

Yes, I'd come to terms with them. But I couldn't make myself stop caring about her. No matter what happened between her and Mac, I was fairly certain that I would always have her in my heart and in my prayers. No matter how far we drifted apart, I would probably still dream about her all the time. No matter how coldly she chose to treat me, I would never, ever leave her in the hands of a mugger. It was the least I could do after breaking her heart and destroying her girlish dreams.

She was worth it, anyhow.

I sighed again, my breath steadier this time, and took one last look at the streetlight outside before leaving the window. I crawled back into bed and sluggishly pulled the sheets up to my chin, peering thoughtfully at the ceiling. The softness of the pillow behind my head made sleep tempting, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to have another nightmare.

Still, though, I could feel my heartbeat slowing down and exhaustion tugging at my eyelids. It had been a long night out of many and I probably would do well to get as much sleep as possible, but I didn't want to hear those horrifying gunshots or end up spinning down a hole again.

Sleep was stronger than I was. My eyelids slid closed and my stream of conscious thought went with it, and it wasn't long until I realized I was dreaming again.

Tensely, I looked around, only to find that I was on the beach. It was nighttime here, too, and the starlight and the moonlight shimmered on the calm surface of the sea. The sand was soft between my bare toes and a cool, salty sea breeze tugged gently at my curls. For a long time, there was nothing but the sound of the wavelets lapping against the shore.

Then, all at once, she was in my arms and smiling as if I'd never hurt her. “Do you love me?”

Weird as it may have been, I told the truth. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

Yes I do dream of all we had together,
Yes it's true we've lost it all forever,
Do I pray anyway?
Yes I do.


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A/N: Well. I actually really enjoyed writing this one. The words seemed to come very easily and I personally, I think it's all really cute. This is a really sweet song however depressing it is, and I think I was actually able to do it some justice.