Standing there, in the middle of the funeral home in front of that casket, I finally realized the difference between them all. Looking down to that wild mane of hair, that sharp featured face, the stubble that always made him so different as a submissive man, I felt as if my throat was closing up on me.
This could not be real.
But it was.
That was apparent the way Carter sat in the front pews, his face buried into one of his children's laps, as both of his twin boys, now motherless, clung to each other for any shred of comfort they could find.
Misery was gone.
And Cove was simply not sure how that was. Misery did not simply die. He was Misery after all, built to withstand everything and still come out on top. No, Misery did not just die...
But he had.
Misery was gone.
But he couldn't be.
Cove didn't understand how he felt. It was like there was a fist in his stomach and he expected something to crash down on him but it hasn't done so.
Because he does not believe this is goodbye to his Misery.
How could he? Misery was always been there, ever since Cove could remember he had always been able to look back at Misery if he needed him and now...
Cove reached into the casket, taking the slender hand.
It was cold.
Cove didn't like the cold. It did not suit Misery well, and so he leaned forward, raising the hand to his lips, clasping it between both of his and breathing his warm breath over it.
"Your so f*cking irritating." The man grouched to the smaller, one hand still holding Misery's as he reached out to gently thread his fingers through that hair...that hair that he would wake up to every morning for so long. "I know you did this on purpose."
His voice did not break. He did not cry. Because Misery was not dead.
But he was
And Everyone could hear the shattered glass in Cove's choked sob, and everyone could see the tears dripping from his chin onto Misery's face.
"Ya just like screwing with meh, ah know ya." He pressed the still cold hand to his cheek, his vision blurry but not by tears. He had no reason to cry.
"Y-Yar gonna get up an y-yar gonna make fun of tha way Carter es cryin' like ah little prissy betch. Ah know ya...." Cove was depending on it...
But even when everyone else in the home had cleared out and it was only Cove and Misery left, Misery had still yet to crack open his eyes, snicker at Cove, and tell him it was a joke and Cove was just being a wussy.
And because of that, Cove was so utterly lost.
This was the difference.
If it had been Leon, Cove would be a broken mess.
Had it been Briley, Cove would be cracking jokes.
But it was Misery, and Cove was unsure of what to do. It was not funny, and it could not be real.
Without Leon he knew he had no chance of having true happiness again.
Without Briley he knew he would not have a friend he could fight with for fun.
Without Misery the world had stopped and he was not sure what to do, because Misery was not there to tell him.
His world was at a stand still.
