Stay Together For The Kids - Michael Clifford Fanfiction

1 Year Later

"Ruby!" I call. It's too late. She's already run up the stairs in a fit of giggles.

I look behind me, where mum is walking up the drive. She carries her walking stick, slowly walking up the path. She is wearing a beautiful summer dress, and she looks beautiful, even with all her hair off.
"Do you need help?" I ask her, even though I already know her answer.

She shakes her head, and I purse my lips. She was so stubborn, even through the end of her illness. I turn back inside and try to find where my daughter has run off to.

The house is an immaculate, the realtor getting someone in to clean the house.
Karen and I had decided that it was time to sell it, to let go of old memory's and embrace the new.

I walk up the stairs, and turn the corner, calling for Ruby.

I find her in her old room, which still has her cot pushed up against the wall. She is playing with a few toys, making a mess.

"You better clean that up." I tell her with a smile. She rolls her eyes, a new thing that she had no doubt picked up from Luke.

"This dad's?" She asks suddenly. She holds up an old teddy bear I had shown her in a picture of Michael as a baby. It had been Michael's and then Ruby's when she was born.

"Yeah it is." I tell her with a smile, happy that she recognised it from the photos.

"I'm keeping it." She demands. It's not a question, it's a statement. She was a little ball of sass, even though she was only a month off her third birthday.

I chuckle, but leave her be. I had to get the rest of the things we were taking into the new house.

I wander through the quiet house, looking around for any last possessions. I open the door to the study, and walk in quickly, looking around for any books I had left behind.

I open a drawer, and pause as my hand falls onto an envelope. Written on the envelope, in a messy scrawl, is the word 'Michael'.

I pause for a second, realising what it is. I absentmindedly sit down in the chair, open the envelope carefully, and start reading.

I'm starting to realise all the mistakes everyone has made. All the things everyone could of done differently. If one little thing had been done different, would it be an entirely different situation?

We all messed up. Calum gave you the drugs. Maybe if he had told the courts, you would of been forced to get help. Maybe if Ashton had just spoke to you, you would of seen reason. Maybe if Luke had of shown up that day so long ago, you wouldn't of gotten so angry. Maybe if I hadn't taken Ruby away you wouldn't of taken that last hit. Maybe you would still be here.

God, Michael. There were so many people at the funeral today. I doubt you actually knew any of them. But I know they would of been affected all the same. They idolised you, Michael. It's funny really. I wonder if they would of cared about you if you had never got famous. I wonder if they would be trashing you on TV right now, instead of glorifying you. "Deranged father found dead in his hotel, weeks after kidnapping daughter and abusing his wife." They would of slaughtered you. But they didn't, because you played guitar. It would of made me angry had I the energy to care about it. I don't really have the mental capacity or time to care about the media anymore.

Everyone is saying the things they should of done. If anything, it just annoys me. Guilt won't bring you back. I just have to keep reminding myself that.

I have to tell you, it's killing me not knowing what really happened. It's like I never knew you. I mean, I know some things. I know you loved me and I know you loved Ruby. And it's killing me that you loved the drugs more. But I guess it killed you first.

And all these people asking me if I'm alright, and the steps and methods to get through this. Who the fuck do they think they're fooling? Get through this? Ask anyone who's been through this, there is no getting through this. God, you would of hated them all Michael. I have to admit though, I'm going through all those stages of grief right now. I jump between anger, denial, and pain in the space of 5 seconds. I wonder if I can call the boys and ask them to change the name of the old band? 5 seconds of bi polar.

You took it. You took the drugs. And I wasn't there. I'm sorry, Michael. I'm so, so, sorry. And I know you don't forgive me, because the Michael I fell in love with would not forgive and forget easily. But sulk for days on end until he saw fit that he had punished me enough. It's been 4 days Michael. You've usually come and hugged me by now. I'm still waiting. I guess I always will be.

I envy you, in the place that you are now. Maybe I don't know where you are right now, but I bet the pain is nothing to what is shredding through me right now. Fuck you and your painless bliss. Christians say drug addicts will go to hell. In my experience, they're wrong. This is the clichéd hell. Living and breathing and fighting on every day is hell. Fighting for her is hell. Knowing I will never see your face again. Knowing that there isn't a chance for Ruby to have a father. It's burning a raging inferno of pain and that is hell.

I hope I don't forget your smile. Your voice. The way you intoxicated the room around you with a simple look. I promise I won't let Ruby forget it either. She won't grow up without a dad. I don't know what to say anymore. We didn't really love each other enough in the end did we? I mean, we were getting a divorce. If we were happily married, do you think this would hurt more? I like to think so. There is a world of suffering out there and I don't dare believe that this is the worst. It comes pretty close though. I don't miss you. Is that bad? It's been three days. My mind hasn't caught up yet. It doesn't believe you're dead. You could be asleep in your messy living room for all I know. Well, you're asleep somewhere. You can't read this, so it's all pointless and stupid. Maybe your a ghost somewhere, I don't know. Maybe you're standing behind me right now laughing at my spelling mistakes and shaking your head at how I still make jokes when I'm uncomfortable. I tried to not make too many for your eulogy.

I'm staying strong, for her. She needs me more then ever. She doesn't understand. She won't for a while. I don't know what to tell her Michael, you were always such a better liar then me. You had a knack of picking up when I was lieing. I don't have the ability to lie. Not to her. Not about this. This. What the hell even is this, Michael? What the hell were you thinking? See what I mean? I've gone back to angry. I was doing such a good job at making stupid jokes and you just had to ruin it.

This is the most horrific pain I've gone through. I don't know if it will end. And the thing I hate the most is that I don't know if I want it to end.

Does it get better, Michael?

I look around, searching for a pen. I find one, and quickly write underneath my last words.

I hear Ruby run up the hallway and quickly place the letter back in the envelope, but not before a second glance at the last two words I had just wrote. They bring a sad smile to my face, because of the truth I know it holds.

"It does."