Charles/Andrew: Hanging On
Aug. 19th, 2008 11:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
wolfanficsTitle: Hanging On
Author: sashataakheru
Fandom: The Chaser RPS
Starring: Charles Firth, Andrew Hansen
Pairings: Charles/Andrew
Word Count: 721
Warnings: dark themes, almost-death!fic, angst, implied attempted suicide and drug use.
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: I don’t know them, not associated with them, just a slashy fangirl admirer with a very active imagination.
Author's Notes: Inspired by this: “Charles and Andrew's love life is similarly dismal.” -- from here. Aww, accidental slash FTW! XD
Author's Notes II: Why, yes, I am going through a Charles/Andrew obsession right now. Whatever gave you that idea? :P
Summary: Charles/Andrew uni-era fic (circa 1996). Andrew's dying and struggles to hang on for the one man he loves the most. Andrew's POV.
Hanging On
I can't live without him. He sings to my soul in a way no one else does. Girls come and go; Charles is always there. He feeds my heart, my mind, my soul with beautiful music.
I've been neglecting him lately, I know. I can't bear to be near him. I don't want to hurt him. Instead, I curl into his arms and cry, trying to fight the darkness. He whispers to me, I hear the panic in his voice. I feel like I'm drowning, but I'm not. Maybe I am. I don't even know which way's up anymore.
I don't know why I did it now. Maybe I will die. It's the least I deserve. At least I'll die in the arms of someone who loves me, not like that bitch who ripped my heart out.
He whispers to me that he's scared he's losing me. I'm scared I'm losing too. I'm weak, pathetic, not strong enough to fight for him. Why can't I win? I want to stay with him. I've made a big mistake. I want to live. But I don't think I'm strong enough.
I close my eyes and whimper as the pain increases. This is it. The end I've dreamt of. I black out, head dizzy and sore. But I don't leave for good. I'm anchored to him. He won't let me go.
I try and fight him, make him let go, while a part of me clings to him desperately, not wanting to be left alone. Charles never gives up though. He always whispers to me. I draw strength from him as I clutch onto him like a helpless child. He kisses me gently, and I finally feel his tears on my cheeks. He's sobbing. Is he really that worried about me?
I try and speak, but I can't. It's too hard. I raise a hand and touch his cheek gently, wiping his tears away. His face is blurry, but he begs me to hang on. Help is coming. I just need to hang on.
Just hang on. Just hang on.
Panic sets in. I can't live without my Charles. I need to hang on. I must. I cling to him as best I can, my fingers clawing into his shirt. My body's shaking now, my head confused and vague. Charles holds me close, whispers to me, begs, begs, begs, begs, begs, and I try, I really try, but I'm losing, I really am. I fucked up. She killed me.
I black out. I feel nothing. I am nothing. I'm in a haze of nothingness.
I couldn't do it. I couldn't hang on for him. I weep. I failed my best friend, my love, the song of my soul.
But wait. There's a noise. It's vague and faint, too quiet to discern what it is. Then I hear him again. Charles is still whispering. He begs me to hang on.
I feel a tug on my broken heart. It pulls me forward. I reach out towards him, wanting him, needing him, trying to move my body with my drug-crazed mind.
He's holding me so close now. I can feel it. I can feel his tears. I'm not dead, not yet. Vision is blurry and hazy. I can't even see anything.
The noise increases. I think I hear more voices. Someone else takes hold of me and I'm lifted up. I can do nothing. I reach for Charles, desperate to be with him. He grabs my hand and squeezes tightly, I try and turn my face to look at him, but I can't. I black out again in a haze of panic, hate and anger.
He's with me as I wake again, every inch of my body screaming in pain. I see his face. I reach a hand up and wipe his tears away. He's been crying. He takes my hand and holds it to his cheek.
He's whispering to me, there is joy in his voice, and I realise I didn't fail him after all.
I hung on! I did it!
I did it for him. I can't live without him. As long as he's with me, I can bear this terrible darkness within me.
Author: sashataakheru
Fandom: The Chaser RPS
Starring: Charles Firth, Andrew Hansen
Pairings: Charles/Andrew
Word Count: 721
Warnings: dark themes, almost-death!fic, angst, implied attempted suicide and drug use.
Rating: FRM
Disclaimer: I don’t know them, not associated with them, just a slashy fangirl admirer with a very active imagination.
Author's Notes: Inspired by this: “Charles and Andrew's love life is similarly dismal.” -- from here. Aww, accidental slash FTW! XD
Author's Notes II: Why, yes, I am going through a Charles/Andrew obsession right now. Whatever gave you that idea? :P
Summary: Charles/Andrew uni-era fic (circa 1996). Andrew's dying and struggles to hang on for the one man he loves the most. Andrew's POV.
Hanging On
I can't live without him. He sings to my soul in a way no one else does. Girls come and go; Charles is always there. He feeds my heart, my mind, my soul with beautiful music.
I've been neglecting him lately, I know. I can't bear to be near him. I don't want to hurt him. Instead, I curl into his arms and cry, trying to fight the darkness. He whispers to me, I hear the panic in his voice. I feel like I'm drowning, but I'm not. Maybe I am. I don't even know which way's up anymore.
I don't know why I did it now. Maybe I will die. It's the least I deserve. At least I'll die in the arms of someone who loves me, not like that bitch who ripped my heart out.
He whispers to me that he's scared he's losing me. I'm scared I'm losing too. I'm weak, pathetic, not strong enough to fight for him. Why can't I win? I want to stay with him. I've made a big mistake. I want to live. But I don't think I'm strong enough.
I close my eyes and whimper as the pain increases. This is it. The end I've dreamt of. I black out, head dizzy and sore. But I don't leave for good. I'm anchored to him. He won't let me go.
I try and fight him, make him let go, while a part of me clings to him desperately, not wanting to be left alone. Charles never gives up though. He always whispers to me. I draw strength from him as I clutch onto him like a helpless child. He kisses me gently, and I finally feel his tears on my cheeks. He's sobbing. Is he really that worried about me?
I try and speak, but I can't. It's too hard. I raise a hand and touch his cheek gently, wiping his tears away. His face is blurry, but he begs me to hang on. Help is coming. I just need to hang on.
Just hang on. Just hang on.
Panic sets in. I can't live without my Charles. I need to hang on. I must. I cling to him as best I can, my fingers clawing into his shirt. My body's shaking now, my head confused and vague. Charles holds me close, whispers to me, begs, begs, begs, begs, begs, and I try, I really try, but I'm losing, I really am. I fucked up. She killed me.
I black out. I feel nothing. I am nothing. I'm in a haze of nothingness.
I couldn't do it. I couldn't hang on for him. I weep. I failed my best friend, my love, the song of my soul.
But wait. There's a noise. It's vague and faint, too quiet to discern what it is. Then I hear him again. Charles is still whispering. He begs me to hang on.
I feel a tug on my broken heart. It pulls me forward. I reach out towards him, wanting him, needing him, trying to move my body with my drug-crazed mind.
He's holding me so close now. I can feel it. I can feel his tears. I'm not dead, not yet. Vision is blurry and hazy. I can't even see anything.
The noise increases. I think I hear more voices. Someone else takes hold of me and I'm lifted up. I can do nothing. I reach for Charles, desperate to be with him. He grabs my hand and squeezes tightly, I try and turn my face to look at him, but I can't. I black out again in a haze of panic, hate and anger.
He's with me as I wake again, every inch of my body screaming in pain. I see his face. I reach a hand up and wipe his tears away. He's been crying. He takes my hand and holds it to his cheek.
He's whispering to me, there is joy in his voice, and I realise I didn't fail him after all.
I hung on! I did it!
I did it for him. I can't live without him. As long as he's with me, I can bear this terrible darkness within me.