ext_82189 (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
ranier.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
31_days2005-12-14 11:39 am
ranier.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2005-12-14 11:39 am
[Dec 14] [Fredwardshi no ahiru] The Boy Who Lived
Title: The Boy Who Lived
Day/Theme: Dec. 14| Enchantment passing through
Series: The Duck of Mr. Fredward (Fredwardshi no ahiru)
Character/Pairing: Nick Jr.
Rating: G
Summary: He would die at the end of spring.
* * * * * * *
Nick was his name. Nick Jr. was his real name. He had two fathers—one in heaven, the other one still sleeping upstairs. He also had two mothers—one also in heaven, the other one was asleep in the arms of the man she loved. If that wasn’t enough, he also had had fourteen years of living under his belt. That was two years longer than what the doctor had told him.
Amazing, huh?
Nick Jr. was grateful for everything that he had. Two sets of parents, a warm house, a golden-furred friend, and a life that couldn’t be more perfect. He had known a lovely duck who could talk, an ex-supermodel who considered him a nephew of some sort, and a kind, gentle priest who looked like he had no business being on earth.
His angels, he often said in secret. Look, God, look at my angels. Aren’t they nice? You made them just for me.
So this morning when Nick Jr. found out that he was going to see God directly (don’t ask how, he just did), he told Cliff. Unfortunately Cliff could only yap and wag his tail. He couldn’t laugh or clap his paws even though he could catch a Frisbee with his mouth. Nick Jr. knew that Cliff understood because he was smart that way, but he also needed to hear a voice saying that it was okay.
It was okay to finally die.
The virus was winning and his body was beyond help, beyond pain. Sometimes Nick Jr. thought that he wanted more from life, but he knew it was selfish of him. Life had been good. He was no longer the AIDS baby, the orphan, the trouble. For almost three years in his life, he was somebody. Cherished.
He had found a home.
And it was time.
Nick Jr. waited. He stayed in his bed until he heard footsteps coming towards his room. His other mother and father had woken up. Shortly after there was a knock on his door. Gloria’s smooth alto called out to him, "Nick. Jr, it’s time to wake up."
"I am awake. Come in, please," he said.
The door opened and her smiling face appeared. "Hey, there."
He raised both arms and she met him for a big hug. He buried himself in her warmth. "Good morning, Gloria."
"Good morning to you too, rascal." She ruffled his thinning blond hair.
And that was it. It was all he needed to hear. Their little routine was all it took for him to decide.
He would wait until winter ended and spring came.
For the first whole month, he’d prepare his meeting with God. They had a lot to talk about. Then in the second month, he would memorize everything about his life now. He wanted to make sure that he had many, many stories to tell when he was in heaven. After all, forever was forever. Finally, during his last month he’d make sure that his angels knew that they were loved. He would write each of them a letter so they would never forget.
Then in the end of spring, amidst the white blossoms and green leaves of their garden, he would lay down his head and sleep.
With a smile.
Day/Theme: Dec. 14| Enchantment passing through
Series: The Duck of Mr. Fredward (Fredwardshi no ahiru)
Character/Pairing: Nick Jr.
Rating: G
Summary: He would die at the end of spring.
Nick was his name. Nick Jr. was his real name. He had two fathers—one in heaven, the other one still sleeping upstairs. He also had two mothers—one also in heaven, the other one was asleep in the arms of the man she loved. If that wasn’t enough, he also had had fourteen years of living under his belt. That was two years longer than what the doctor had told him.
Amazing, huh?
Nick Jr. was grateful for everything that he had. Two sets of parents, a warm house, a golden-furred friend, and a life that couldn’t be more perfect. He had known a lovely duck who could talk, an ex-supermodel who considered him a nephew of some sort, and a kind, gentle priest who looked like he had no business being on earth.
His angels, he often said in secret. Look, God, look at my angels. Aren’t they nice? You made them just for me.
So this morning when Nick Jr. found out that he was going to see God directly (don’t ask how, he just did), he told Cliff. Unfortunately Cliff could only yap and wag his tail. He couldn’t laugh or clap his paws even though he could catch a Frisbee with his mouth. Nick Jr. knew that Cliff understood because he was smart that way, but he also needed to hear a voice saying that it was okay.
It was okay to finally die.
The virus was winning and his body was beyond help, beyond pain. Sometimes Nick Jr. thought that he wanted more from life, but he knew it was selfish of him. Life had been good. He was no longer the AIDS baby, the orphan, the trouble. For almost three years in his life, he was somebody. Cherished.
He had found a home.
And it was time.
Nick Jr. waited. He stayed in his bed until he heard footsteps coming towards his room. His other mother and father had woken up. Shortly after there was a knock on his door. Gloria’s smooth alto called out to him, "Nick. Jr, it’s time to wake up."
"I am awake. Come in, please," he said.
The door opened and her smiling face appeared. "Hey, there."
He raised both arms and she met him for a big hug. He buried himself in her warmth. "Good morning, Gloria."
"Good morning to you too, rascal." She ruffled his thinning blond hair.
And that was it. It was all he needed to hear. Their little routine was all it took for him to decide.
He would wait until winter ended and spring came.
For the first whole month, he’d prepare his meeting with God. They had a lot to talk about. Then in the second month, he would memorize everything about his life now. He wanted to make sure that he had many, many stories to tell when he was in heaven. After all, forever was forever. Finally, during his last month he’d make sure that his angels knew that they were loved. He would write each of them a letter so they would never forget.
Then in the end of spring, amidst the white blossoms and green leaves of their garden, he would lay down his head and sleep.
With a smile.