[November 1] [Original] Benediction

[rosehiptea.livejournal.com]

Title: Benediction
Day/Theme: November 1/you silver tongued, unreliable narrator
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Chris and Diana, friendship
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1,063



The hospital and its devices didn't surprise Chris very much. But the sight of Diana, weak and faded on the white sheets, shocked him. He knew she was ill, and in his more honest moments he admitted to himself that she was dying. Yet he hadn't expected to see her like this. Since they were young he had always thought she was so strong, though when he told her she would always snort and say, "Why does everybody have to be strong?" She had been his best friend since the beginning of time, or so it seemed to him, but she still couldn't take a compliment.

He sat down next to her, and she smiled at him. "How have you been?" she asked.

"I've been all right," he replied. He didn't repeat the question to her, because she would only roll her eyes and tell him she was in the damn hospital.

Chris tried to think of a topic of conversation. "I saw Monica today," he said finally. Neither of them was married or had children, but they had a little vicarious parenthood through Chris's many nieces and nephews.

"Is she the one who plays "Rock, Paper, Scissors" the wrong way?

He nodded. "Rock, Paper, Scissors, and Giant Squid. But today she was playing Barbie Wedding."

"Who did Barbie marry?" Diana asked.

"I think it was a cow," he replied.

"That sounds like Monica."

Diana's voice had taken on a broken, labored quality that troubled him.

"I used to think I'd have kids of my own someday," she said. "Teach them all sorts of crazy stuff."

"You're only twenty-five. When you get out of the hospital--"

Diana wasn't smiling now. "I have cancer and I'm going to die from it. At least grant me the dignity of admitting it's true."

Chris closed his eyes for a moment and nodded.

"Are you scared?" he asked. He knew that even now he could ask her anything.

"Are you stupid? Of course I'm scared," she retorted. "This isn't like swimming, where you can go in first and tell me if it's OK. Nobody ever comes back."

"Well, that depends on who you ask," he said.

She held her hands up, palm out. "I'm not counting religion," she said.

"Neither am I. But I never told you about the time I saw my grandmother's ghost."

"Your grandmother Spencer?"

"Considering that my mother's mother is still alive, that does leave only her. And I saw her, in my room."

"You're making that up," she said contemptuously. "You'd have told me already if you saw a ghost."

"I didn't want you calling me crazy. And don't even try to tell me you wouldn't."

The smile returned to her face. "I could call you worse things."

"Do you want to hear about my grandmother or not?"

She considered for a moment. "Only if you're not making it up."

"Would I lie to you?"

"Yes, but usually about sex."

"Don't change the subject," he said. This should probably be some sort of solemn moment, discussing ghosts with a dying woman, but he was grinning. "It happened about six years ago, two years after she died. And I was lying in my bedroom--"

"Asleep? Dreaming?"

"No. I know I was awake, and I saw her standing there in the corner. She just said "Hello," like it was an ordinary day, which maybe it was for her."

"And you didn't panic?" asked Diana.

"Well, my heart was pounding pretty hard. She started asking me about all the family, including one of my nephews who hadn't been born yet when she passed away. So what does that tell you?"

"That you're full of it?"

"No. I mean, not only is there an afterlife, but dead people can keep track of what living people are doing." This was all meant to reassure Diana, but with her it was hard to tell how well you were doing.

"So why did she ask how they were?" she asked.

"I don't know! Maybe she was just making conversation. Do you want me to finish this or not?"

"Finish it."

"All right. So then I asked her what heaven is like."

"Hold up a minute," said Diana. "Isn't not being in heaven part of the whole ghost deal? They have to stay on earth to haunt people or something? Not that I believe in ghosts."

"Maybe she was more like an angel than a ghost," he said in a musing tone.

"Did she have wings?"

Chris thought to himself that now she was just being a smartass.

"No. Anyway, I asked her what heaven is like, and she told me it's really hard to describe. She said it's so unlike life here that it's hard to compare to anything. The best she could do was to say it was like an animated movie but you live in it -- spectacular colors, music. But then that sounds like it could be a mess, and she said it wasn't. It's very peaceful, but not boring, and you can meet other people who died."

"So heaven is full of dead people and Disney cartoons?" Diana asked.

"Now you're making it sound bad."

"Maybe I like Disney cartoons," she said.

"You do, actually," he pointed out.

"So, if I somehow make it into heaven, even though I stole money from the collection plate the only time I ever went to church and then I used it to fund gun smuggling to anarchists, so I'm sure I'll burn forever…"

Chris winced. Diana never stopped taking everything lightly, even heaven and hell.

"If I make it, I'll be happy and meet my dead uncle who used to drink too much. And before you say anything, I liked him too. Also maybe I'll see Mickey Mouse. The only problem is that you're lying about the whole thing."

"I'm not lying," he said.

"I’m going to take a nap,” Diana announced. “All this theology has me tired."
She closed her eyes.

All stories are true, and all stories are lies, Chris thought to himself as he watched her face as she fell asleep. There's no harm in that. And at least Diana still looks happy.

And when he looked carefully, he was certain he could see her right in this room: his grandmother's spirit, holding her hands out in a benediction of Diana's last days.