The Melody of Lost Souls

Some Air

FUNERALS HAVE NEVER really been my scene. I mean, are they for anyone? A bunch of sad, remorseful people sitting around talking about the deceased like they were good people. They gloss over the bad and pretend they miss the person. Really, I think it's something they feel they have to say. To look good. Kind of like PR, you know? I definitely get that vibe as I walk through Dan's parents place. 

Not walk... roll...

I don't actually really get much of a chance to move around because the house is cramped and it's not exactly wheelchair friendly. June rolled me to the viewing room where I saw Elijah, and now he's the one pushing me around. I fucking hate this chair. 

After our little moment in the viewing room something changed in Elijah. He's my own personal pocket puppy since we left the room, refusing to leave my side for more than a handful of seconds. He's anxious, that much I can tell, and he doesn't like the family that fills the house. 

Honestly, I don't blame him either. I hear snippets of their conversations, see the way they follow not only Elijah but me with their eyes as we wander through the place. They've figured out pretty quick that I'm the guy who was in the car with Dan. They keep shooting me pitying looks. I even heard someone say it's such a shame I was a victim of Dan's stupidity. We're at his damn funeral and they're focusing on me like I'm some kind of victim. 

I know Elijah hears it all too. I hear the way his hand tightens around the handles of my chair. When I glance back at him, his jaw is working fiercely. My own rage is barely suppressed by the flimsy shield I've put up, so all I can manage is a tight, reassuring smile. I could cause a scene, would love to cause a scene, but not at Dan's funeral. Not when the one person who really matters in this house is mourning for his brother. 

So, I let him stick by my side, let him wheel me around, avoiding all the crazy family members until we find a corner to nestle in. I lock my wheels in place and he pulls up a folding chair, before sitting close enough that our knees touch. I wish I could feel his knee against mine, fuck do I ever. 

We don't say much, we don't need to, but Elijah is split open like a book. His knee is bouncing anxiously as he stares wildly out at his family like an animal detecting danger. I feel like at any moment he's going to bolt if someone so much as looks in his direction. 

Before I can think of what I'm doing, I reach out an wrap my hand around his clenched fist. He jumps, startled by the gesture, and I wonder if I've done something wrong. I go to pull away, but then his hand grips mine tightly, locking me in place. 

"It's okay," he mutters, shyly to my silent apology. 

We sit there, side by side, quietly, with Elijah looking anywhere but at me, and with me watching him out of the corner of my eye. He sags forward, his elbows now resting on his knees, his free hand clasped over his mouth thoughtfully. Even after everything Dan had done (I know a fair bit about the stuff he's put his family through), Elijah misses his brother. And I miss my best friend...