Moonlightaholics

Title: The End of Dreams
Author: redwinter101
Rating: PG-13, darkfic (theme)
Disclaimer: I don't own Moonlight or any of its characters
Note: Although this is only rated PG-13, I should warn you, it's not a happy story at all - quite the opposite so be prepared. Or save it for another day. This has taken me ages to write - I got stuck - and then a line in another story gave me a title and an ending. I hope that's enough warning for everyone (if not, please do shout and I'll happily amend).

*****************************************************************************************************************


--- The End of Dreams ---

Josef hovered in the hallway. For a brief moment he rested against the cool wall, hand wiping from brow to jaw, exhaustion etched in curves and hollows. He had been here every day for the last three weeks, caring, cajoling, trying to comfort. He had forsaken his usual methods of consolation; this was about more than raising spirits with a willing girl and a fine brandy. In the immediate aftermath, Mick had continued to function. On some level his body sustained him. He fed, he slept, he took care of the basics, filling the rest of his hours with uncaring monotony. But as the days passed, he had retreated, pushed away all save Josef, his seclusion more absolute, more definite. He was drifting, neglectful, no longer feeding, not resting unless forced.

But today would be different. Today was the day it stopped. Guillermo had offered to help, and Josef could probably have used his expertise, but Mick's devastation and Josef's concern made them both vulnerable; and vulnerability was private.

Cuffs shot, throat cleared, neck crunched, he was ready.

He forced himself across the threshold, easing the door closed, crossing to perch on the coffee table. He had hoped a miracle would have brought some improvement, a glimmer of life that would lift his burden, but it wasn't to be. He saw the shell of a man, eyes glassy and absent within clammy, grimy skin. His hair was slick with grease, clothes crumpled and stained. It took all of Josef’s self-control not to baulk. He had hoped Mick would eventually tire of languishing in his own filth, that some measure of dignity would be his saviour. But that was all gone now. This was the point of intervention and he knew it.

“Mick.” Nothing. No reaction. Not even an acknowledgement of his presence. Collecting supplies from the kitchen he sat, reaching for Mick’s arm and pushing back the sleeve. No resistance, no protest, his mute acceptance more frightening than any rage Josef could imagine. As needle punctured vein and the blood flowed, he felt an easing, the body reacting in defiance of the spirit, accepting sustenance. Survival was about more than choice. Mick slumped back in the chair, eyes closed, his breathing calm and even.

"Mick. Mick, look at me." Josef grasped his shoulders, shaking. Mick waved him away weakly, an incoherent mumble of protest. "Mick!" Loud and sharp, a long-perfected tone of command.

Finally, Mick looked and focused. "Why do you come here? Why can't you just leave me alone?" His voice was dry and old, echoing with mortality.

"I'm stubborn," Josef grimaced. "Mick, listen to me. I know you're in pain, I know you-"

"You know nothing about how I feel."

Josef ignored the interruption, "I know you want to just sit here and fester but I can't let you do that. It's time to get off your ass and face the world again." He stood, ready. "And the first thing is to get you cleaned up." He reached to drag Mick from the chair.

"Just go, Josef. Get out. Leave me alone. I don't want you here."

"Well this isn't about what you want any more. We're going to see Beth and I refuse to take you looking, and smelling, like that," he waved a disgusted hand.

"What did you say?" Almost silent but fuelled by desperate, mindless rage, finally, there was a spark, a glint behind the veneer of defeat.

"I said we're going to see Beth."

"I'm warning you, Josef, don't."

"You need to see her. It's time."

Josef had crouched, meeting Mick eye to eye. It made him an easy target. In a blur, energy dredged from near-forgotten depths, Mick was on him, lashing out, aiming for mouth and throat, his goal to silence. "Shut up. Shut your goddamned mouth."

Josef evaded the blows with ease; he had Mick's measure at the best of times but in this condition, it was a sorry mismatch. Weak and desperate, driven by the only emotion he had displayed in days, Mick continued his attack. Josef finally saw an opening and he wasn't going to waste it. "Beth? Why shouldn't I say her name?" Mick's arms flailed, a flash of bared fang. "Beth, Mick. Beth."

As suddenly as his assault flared, it was over. Mick slumped, rolling away, curling up, closing off again, blocking out even the sound of her name. His resistance over, surrender returned. Josef's brief hope of holding that connection was gone. He'd have to do things the hard way. Rising, lifting Mick with him, dead weight, he headed upstairs. "Like I said, time to get you cleaned up, buddy. Places to go, people to see."

Stripped and into the shower, an awkward, tender dance as Josef gently washed away the layers of neglect. The water flowed over them, cleansing the signs of days past and finally Mick managed to support himself, resting against the cool tile, his body reviving. He swayed, gripping Josef's arm, their eyes meeting briefly, flicking away. Josef felt the pull of connection, of touch, the intimacy of need as Mick placed himself in his certain care. Every instinct screamed at Mick to push away, to isolate, but the warmth of allowing himself to be cared for was powerful and deep. With disappointment he realised he hadn't quite given up on life yet, no matter how much he wanted to.

Clean and refreshed, unsteady, Josef manoeuvred them out, wrapping Mick in warm towels and placing him carefully on the edge of the tub. Once he was sure he wouldn't topple, Josef ducked into the bedroom and pulled fresh clothes for both from the closet. He paused, gathering himself, knowing the hardest part was yet to come. It took him nearly an hour to get Mick shaved, dressed and back downstairs, guiding him like an old man. He held the door open, Mick backing away, "I can't, Josef. Please. I can't."

"Yes, you can. You must. She deserves this - and if you don't come with me now then you aren't the man I thought you were." Josef refused to yield to the plea in Mick's eyes. "Now, let's go." An arm around his shoulders, encouraging, directing.

"Josef, I haven't left this apartment in three weeks." It wasn't just defeat in his eyes now; it was fear.

"I know. And that's why you have to do this now, or else I don't think you ever will." On some level that reached Mick. Maybe that was what he wanted. To be shut in, entombed here. "Trust me, Mick. I'll be with you. But you have to do this." He moved, drawing Mick with him; if he wanted to stay, he would need to fight. But he had no fight left.

The drive was silent save for the quickening tap of Mick's fingers against his thigh. Glancing across, Josef could see the frown, sense his rising anxiety. As they reached their destination, Josef pulled over and turned the key, the engine's growl giving way to heavy silence. He reached over, placing his hand over Mick's, stemming his tapping, a silent message of shared strength. He spoke softly, turning in his seat, "This is as far as I go, Mick. The rest is up to you." There was no more to be said.

Mick drew in a deep, shaky breath, chewing his lip, fighting back a wave of nausea. The tiny voice in his head whispered sweet encouragement, while every sense and instinct told him to run, to hide, to save himself. He looked to Josef, saw his concern and finally understood the inevitability of what he must do. He had been a fool and a coward to believe he could fade away painlessly, avoid the immortal's curse. With a brief nod, he stepped out and walked through the gates, across the verdant green; so much life in a place of death. As he reached the new graves, he sought out the wooden cross that bore her name. With each step, his vain hope rose, clutching, cruel. There had been a mistake. She wasn't here, cold and alone. She was safe and warm, waiting for him to come to her, to hold her, to speak her name. Even when he found her, there was a part of him that couldn't, wouldn't believe it. He clamped his eyes shut, conjuring memories of life and love, vitality and fire.

Josef got out and leant against the hood; he knew he was intruding, a voyeur, but he was compelled by his own need to see, to hear, to know that Mick was still Mick. He watched as his broken friend stood by the graveside, motionless, not looking, not seeing. Minutes passed and still he remained. As the sun slipped below the horizon, a caretaker arrived to lock up. He didn't take much convincing to leave the gates open; he had been caring for the dead and the grieving long enough to know that mourning had its own timetable. Refusing Josef's offered cash with a sad smile, he shuffled off, his keys clinking gently against his belt.

The sounds of day gave way to the quiet of nightfall. Tears of dew formed across the manicured lawns; a chill in the air drew a shiver. In the distance, the faint hum of the city faded. Minutes stretched to hours. Still Mick stood and Josef watched.

The longer Mick remained, the heavier the pressure grew, building, choking, his eyes fixed to her name, unable to break away. His cry pierced the silence, wordless, choked, animal, and Mick sank to his knees clawing at the dead earth. Josef felt his own tears flow, tears of sorrow and relief, as acceptance broke Mick's trance of denial. He darted forward, reaching Mick as he fell. He held him close, his presence the only comfort he could offer. Mick had pushed away his care for so long, but now it was a lifeline, and he clung to him, burying his face in Josef's chest, groping for constancy in his spiral of emotion.

"I left her, Josef. I left her all alone here." Lifting his head, tears glistening, he turned away, shame burning. "How could I? How...? I let them put her in the earth," he ground out the bitter words, "and I wasn't here." Josef gripped his shoulder. "I abandoned her in life and then I abandoned her in death."

"That's not true, Mick. You couldn't save her. No-one could. She knew that and she was at peace. Her last thoughts were of you. She knew what was happening and she didn't care that you weren't with her - she said that she could feel you and that was all that mattered."

Mick turned to him, "What are you talking about? I thought... I thought she never regained consciousness?"

"I was waiting for the right time to tell you," Josef shrugged, "but I'm not very good at this and I have no idea what 'the right time' is."

"Was she," he looked down again, wanting to ask but not wanting to know, "was she in pain?"

"No, Mick. She was drifting on a sea of morphine. Look at me." Mick turned to face him. "I promise you it was peaceful. I promise you she wasn't in pain."

Mick paused, deciding if this was a simple truth or a merciful lie. "Did she say anything else?"

"She made me promise to take care of you."

Mick smiled as his tears started anew. His beautiful Beth, gone. His hopes, his dreams, everything, dead. "Can I ask you something, Josef?"

"I've always hated questions that start with 'Can I ask you something?' It always struck me as a ridiculous-" He stopped himself with a cough. "Sorry. Go on. Ask."

"Four hundred years you've lived - and loved, in spite of what you tell everyone. When you lose everything, what do you do?"

Josef stifled a gasp. He daren't tell the truth, now now, not yet. He would leave Mick to find out for himself that every loss chipped away a piece of your soul, a piece that could never be replaced. "You keep going, Mick. You start all over again. You do whatever you have to, but you survive. I wish there were a magic answer, but there isn't."

"How do you start all over again, when all your dreams have died?"

Josef stood, pulling Mick to his feet, brushing him down. He took Mick's face in his hands, and with a sad, knowing smile, said, "I thought you understood by now, Mick. Vampires don't dream."

*dabs eyes and tries to regain composure* That was... stunning. Emotionally devastating in the best ways. I absolutely loved it.

Holy...fenagilies.
Perfect. My little heart hurts.

jen, thank you *hands jen a tissue*

Sparrow, BIRD!! You're here. How lovely. Thanks so much for the read and the comment.

Red

Oh, Red...the emotion is wonderful. Sad, devastating, but wonderful.

I find it interesting (general observation) how many fics we have with Josef caring for Mick, picking up the pieces after Mick falls apart. I think it's lovely.

And I think your fic is lovely.

Lucky

Good Lord, Red - this was beautiful in its heartbreak. I sobbed my way through this.

I knew this wasn't going to end well after the first sentence, but I knew for sure here:

We're going to see Beth and I refuse to take you looking, and smelling, like that

I love the deep bond between Josef and Mick. Here, we see a seldom-realized side of Josef - the one that loves Mick, the one that will do what must be done to get Mick functioning again. This shows the depth of that bond:

Stripped and into the shower, an awkward, tender dance as Josef gently washed away the layers of neglect. The water flowed over them, cleansing the signs of days past and finally Mick managed to support himself, resting against the cool tile, his body reviving. He swayed, gripping Josef's arm, their eyes meeting briefly, flicking away. Josef felt the pull of connection, of touch, the intimacy of need as Mick placed himself in his certain care. Every instinct screamed at Mick to push away, to isolate, but the warmth of allowing himself to be cared for was powerful and deep. With disappointment he realised he hadn't quite given up on life yet, no matter how much he wanted to.

Mick's pain reaches out and grabs you by the throat in this - as a reader, I wanted to do anything to ease the ache, to give anything to help him avoid what he must do. This is pretty much where I lost it:

There had been a mistake. She wasn't here, cold and alone. She was safe and warm, waiting for him to come to her, to hold her, to speak her name. Even when he found her, there was a part of him that couldn't, wouldn't believe it. He clamped his eyes shut, conjuring memories of life and love, vitality and fire.

and here again with that unbreakable bond:

Josef felt his own tears flow, tears of sorrow and relief, as acceptance broke Mick's trance of denial. He darted forward, reaching Mick as he fell. He held him close, his presence the only comfort he could offer. Mick had pushed away his care for so long, but now it was a lifeline, and he clung to him, burying his face in Josef's chest, groping for constancy in his spiral of emotion.

Simply stunning, my friend. So well done.

Lucky, and you're lovely too.

PNWgal, sorry for the sobbing, honey. I'm so in love with Mick and Josef at the moment - and this is how it came out. Both stories I've written that involve just the two of them (challenge fic aside) have them in some dire situation, with one coming to the other's rescue. I really must try to write something a little lighter next time.

Red

God, that was so painful to read, but aboslutely incredible. I loved Josef trying to be Mick's rock. Ok, I'm gonna go wash my tear soaked face. for the story!

Reading through this, there was so much of it - from the title to lines like:

But today would be different. Today was the day it stopped. Guillermo had offered to help, and Josef could probably have used his expertise, but Mick's devastation and Josef's concern made them both vulnerable; and vulnerability was private.

That could just has easily have been about Sarah as opposed to Beth. And, that feeling comes through in regard to Josef's words and dealing with Mick.

Josef says "Vampires don't dream"... but he does. Otherwise Sarah wouldn't have been on life support for 50 years. If anything, there's more hope in him than there ever was in Mick.

No tears, but beautifully sad.

Absolutely stunning!! the heartbreak is so tremendous and overwhelming and so exquisitely written!!!! Bravo!!!!

mitzie

redwinter, that’s a brilliant story.
I could feel Josef’s despair and exhaustion from the first paragraph on.

vulnerability was private

How sad that is, and how true to Josef.

Survival was about more than choice.

Yes, there’s instinct. That’s all Josef can rely on now.
We still don’t know what happened through a big part of the story, at first I thought Beth was dead, but then Josef wants to go see her. A riddle that is intriguing.
And still the despair is oozing out of my monitor, and I can just feel Mick’s depression and Josef’s concern.

Stripped and into the shower, an awkward, tender dance as Josef gently washed away the layers of neglect. The water flowed over them, cleansing the signs of days past and finally Mick managed to support himself, resting against the cool tile, his body reviving. He swayed, gripping Josef's arm, their eyes meeting briefly, flicking away. Josef felt the pull of connection, of touch, the intimacy of need as Mick placed himself in his certain care. Every instinct screamed at Mick to push away, to isolate, but the warmth of allowing himself to be cared for was powerful and deep. With disappointment he realised he hadn't quite given up on life yet, no matter how much he wanted to.

This is by far my favorite paragraph. So raw and intricately woven together, sparse in words and heavy in emotion. Wonderful.

And then Josef drives him to the cemetery and the reader realizes that indeed, Beth is dead. It falls into place now.
The conversation at the end is heartwrenching. And the last line is the killer.
As I experience a loss in real life just now, a friend of mine dying of cancer, this was very near to my heart. I will have to go on, not deny what happens, not leave her alone. But it’s a hard thing to do, and it takes a chip of the soul every time it happens. Not only to vampires.
Thank you for this story.

Hmmmm....I know how he feels...except about the burden of immortality. Which is significant.

And how lovely at the end... he realizes how much he needs, appreciates, having Josef. They really DO need each other... as time passes, this is their most important, enduring, mutually-self-preserving relationship.

This rang really true for me, Red... I could see everything you wrote... true to both of their characters. You write Mick and Josef together very well.

And this is kinda the way I see he and Beth... don't know how old she is... old, sick with cancer, whatever... this is how I see it ending...

I will just bet this one was a *itch to write tho...

Oh Red

That was incredible and so very emotional. When I read the warning at the start and began to read this I was trying to place the timing of the story. I knew it was about Mick & Josef but I couldn't place at first if it was just after Coraline or during his time with Beth but then it just clicked for me and even before Josef mentioned going to see Beth I just knew and then the tears came as I realised where they would be going to see Beth.

I felt everything with this Red and I so agree with Grace - you write Mick & Josef incredibly well. You get them and their friendship and the bond they have with each other and that draws the reader into the story more.

Having cared for my mother at home while she was ill with cancer and then having to bring my father back from the brink after her loss, I got this so very much. It rang true. Josef's care of Mick and the determination he had with him not to let him give up and pushing him through what he doesn't want to do in order to get him to do what he actually needs to heal a little.

Such a beautiful moment here and just what Mick needed to hear. Sad as it is.

"I was waiting for the right time to tell you," Josef shrugged, "but I'm not very good at this and I have no idea what 'the right time' is."

"Was she," he looked down again, wanting to ask but not wanting to know, "was she in pain?"

"No, Mick. She was drifting on a sea of morphine. Look at me." Mick turned to face him. "I promise you it was peaceful. I promise you she wasn't in pain."

Mick paused, deciding if this was a simple truth or a merciful lie. "Did she say anything else?"

"She made me promise to take care of you."

Mick smiled as his tears started anew. His beautiful Beth, gone. His hopes, his dreams, everything, dead.

I've read this a couple of times already and I know I'm going to be back for more re-reads. This is a sad piece but it gives me hope too. Their friendship is strong and they have each other no matter what happens to them in the future.

Red

lorig, mitzie, thank you both, so much.

eris, how intriguing. I'd never thought about it like that before. I guess Josef is generally a more hopeful person - because he doesn't see himself as somehow doomed.

francis, to hear that a story resonates with real life is touching and wonderful. I'm so sorry for the situation you find yourself in - and I thank you for sharing your reaction to this story.

Grace, thank you. ITA about this being the most important relationship - for both of them. I shudder to think what either would do without the support and constancy of the other.

coco, "It rang true." The kindest words about a story like this; it seems, inevitably I suppose, that sad stories remind us of our own sadnesses and I'm so grateful to you for reading on, and for telling me about your mum and dad. Grief and loss, so powerful - and Mick and Josef will need each other, at various points through their long lives, to survive. Because ultimately, they have no-one else.

Red

Dark and haunting and beautiful. This was difficult for me to read, had to do the "separation" thing--where I step outside myself a bit, so that I don't become a quivering blubbering mess.

The overwhelming feeling I had throughout: why does he go on? Maybe that's the wrong outlook, but the sense of grief and despair were so overpowering, and the fact that his life knows no end, just lends itself to further spiraling sadness. I guess it is the power of your words that made Mick seem so unbelievably 'gone'.

And there is Josef, coming to his rescue. Calling him just a friend seems to be a disservice. He is so very much more than that. I felt pain for him, as well. Thinking of all that he has lost over the years--400 years of nonliving and surviving and dealing with life's tragedies and still making the best of it. It is not only a story of Mick and his unending grief--but of Josef----my heart breaks at how many times he must have been in a situation similar to Mick.

I am going to go quote crazy here for a moment, please bear with me.

Cuffs shot, throat cleared, neck crunched, he was ready.

Josef as all business, readying himself for the fight. Crisp and to the point.

the body reacting in defiance of the spirit, accepting sustenance.

This is when my heart first started truly breaking.

Every instinct screamed at Mick to push away, to isolate, but the warmth of allowing himself to be cared for was powerful and deep.

And that's what this line was for me: powerful and deep. Evoking so much.

mourning had its own timetable.

Devastating in it's simplicity.

"How do you start all over again, when all your dreams have died?"

Oh, the answer to that question. Doesn't exist.

Vampires don't dream."

...and that is why your title is already perfect.