CHECKMATE

The Game is Lost

The time was coming, the curtains were coming to a close in a dramatic ending. Or that's what he would have liked to believe. But in all reality, his death was the same as thousands of millions of others. Lay there in a bed, in a hospital, wired up to so many machines and an IV drip, though no machine nor medicine in the world could rescue his failing health, none could stop the way his heart was slowing down or ease the way that each breath was becoming more challenging to complete than the last. The last scraps of life were dissipating into thin air and no man or God could stop it.

Though no man could possibly have saved him, there was one who wished he could. His lover. His lover who, at his deathbed, was there with him, holding his face, tears dropping down onto his clammy, pale skin. Again, this wasn't unusual. Lots of people died around their crying lovers. Lots of people lay there with someone crying onto their face as they passed away. Nothing about this death was any different from others.

Apart from one thing.

The dying are usually scared, or selfish, or snarky or rude. They're usually crying too, or pleading with those around them for help, or insulting God for taking their life away. The dying usually aren't so brave as him, not so elegant in their departure. They usually aren't the ones who comfort the people around them. But he was.

Whizzer Brown was all of those things. His lover, Marvin, was a mess in his hands, clearly scared out of his wits knowing that he was soon going to lose his boyfriend. He was sobbing, truly breaking down, tears falling down his cheeks in a torrent. His eyes were red and his usually pale skin was blotchy, breath shaky with terror. He couldn't comprehend that within mere minutes he'd be all alone again, alone in the world without his dear partner. He would sleep alone forever more. He'd have to cook his own breakfasts in the morning, and make his own coffee. There would only be one toothbrush in the glass by his sink from now on, only one pillow on his bed. He'd make depressing dinner reservations at restaurants for one, and sit there staring at an empty seat across from him, only able to picture Whizzer's ghost. And he couldn't handle that.

All the time he had been sick, Whizzer was the brave one. He'd held Marvin through so many breakdowns, he'd had him come apart in his arms so many times in such a short timeframe. Truthfully, he wanted to cry too. He wanted to scream and cry and kick and make such a fuss that God wouldn't let him into Heaven and Satan wouldn't let him into Hell, so he'd have to stay right there, but what good would it do? He had two options. He could cry, he could sob, he could wail, he could openly fear his quickly approaching demise or he could be there for his lover and try to make his departure a simple one. He could lessen the pain for everyone else at his own expense, and of course that's what he would do. He loved Marvin more than the idea of living. If he had no choice but to die, he wanted to make it as easy for him as he could, he wanted to cushion the shocking fall to the best of his ability.

And so, he held him. He held his face in his weak hands, stroked his wet cheeks with his thumbs, swiping away his tears, even though he knew full well that as soon as he did, they would be replaced with fresh ones. He whispered to him in a hushed tone, he told Marvin, "There's no need to be afraid, my dear," and, "I'm still here, at least for now,". He murmured, "I've got you," and made Marvin feel safe, safe enough to gradually relax and lay down next to him. His heartbroken sobs slowed to a melancholic weep, quieter, more subdued.

Eventually, Marvin fell asleep. He'd worn himself out. He'd been awake for days at Whizzers side, bringing him food and flowers and little gifts. He played quiet games with him, read to him, sang to him and cuddled with him, trying to keep him as comfortable as possible. They both knew that today was Whizzer's day, though. They both knew it was soon, that he didn't have a whole lot of time left. But even so, Whizzer let Marvin sleep, since hell he knew he was in need of it. He stayed wide awake though, since if he died and didn't wake Marvin up to say goodbye, he could only imagine the kind of trouble he'd be in when his boyfriend finally joined him in hell.