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Entry tags:
043 - Dying
Title: Goodbye, Goodbye
Rating: K
Series: Jones
Characters: Adam Kane; Chris Ridge-Cookie; Parker Jones; Terrence Jones
Prompt: 100 themes - 043 - Dying
Claimer: Mostly mine. But shared with SuperSpecialAwesome!Lori.
Authors Note: Stanley dies, and in the case of well-loved pets everywhere, there's a funeral.
Rating: K
Series: Jones
Characters: Adam Kane; Chris Ridge-Cookie; Parker Jones; Terrence Jones
Prompt: 100 themes - 043 - Dying
Claimer: Mostly mine. But shared with SuperSpecialAwesome!Lori.
Authors Note: Stanley dies, and in the case of well-loved pets everywhere, there's a funeral.
It’s miserable: wind blowing a gale, trees groaning, drizzling rain. And the thoughts running though Parker’s mind are centered around how much he would like be back in the comfort of his lounge room with a coffee and a movie. He’s well aware of the fact that he should be ashamed to think such a thing, and if he tries really hard he can imagine he actually feels a pang of guilt. But he doesn’t. It doesn’t help much that Adam’s shifting uncomfortably as if thinking the same thing, only probably with alcohol rather than coffee, and that Terrence is giving them both foul looks as if he can read their minds.
The dirt (well, mud really) that had previously filled the hole in the ground in front of him, sits in a bucket and adds a touch of comedy to the scene. What, with the green and yellow plastic trowel sticking out of it, complete with a snail sliming it’s way along the handle. Sitting on the mud and grass at his feet and sobbing pitifully into Adam’s shoulder is Christopher.
As funerals go, it’s not very good really—and Parker should know, he’s been to so many of them—but at least it’s heartfelt. Even Jane is sitting relatively still beneath Terrence’s jacket as though the solemness of the occasion has permeated her furry head and it’s thoughts of herself and Adam and Stanley.
It was a decent coffin, Parker muses. He’d made it himself (and oh, hadn’t Terrence been proud). Chris had started bawling again when he found it was handmade. Parker was surprised to find he didn’t mind the tears then nearly as much as they irked him now. However, he places that down to the guilt he’s so sure he should be feeling. It’s not as if he didn’t like the little green guy, despite the many times he’d been splashed by the contents of whatever was in front of him. Wine, water, food and even blood, once. He knows that he should probably suffer the harsh outdoors for a few minutes longer out of respect to the memory of the frog, and out of respect to Chris.
But the coffee is oh-so-tempting.
Slowly, he bends down and lays a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “C’mon, Chrissy. Let’s get in out of the rain.”
Chris nods slowly and releases his death grip on Adam’s jacket— suspiciously much to Adam’s relief and Parker makes a note to ask him what exactly he was keeping in that pocket. He slowly gets to his feet, using Parker’s offered hand, then bends down again and shovels some of the dirt onto the neat little coffin. Parker does the same, followed by Adam, followed by Terrence, who takes care to smooth down the edge of the grave.
They make their way back down the hill towards the house, Adam carefully taking Jane from Terrence, who barely hisses at all in the rain, and Parker with Chris burrowed into his side, not caring at all about the mud getting all over his new jacket.
And on the hillside, a little granite headstone sits behind a freshly turned patch of dirt with a snail sitting on it.
The dirt (well, mud really) that had previously filled the hole in the ground in front of him, sits in a bucket and adds a touch of comedy to the scene. What, with the green and yellow plastic trowel sticking out of it, complete with a snail sliming it’s way along the handle. Sitting on the mud and grass at his feet and sobbing pitifully into Adam’s shoulder is Christopher.
As funerals go, it’s not very good really—and Parker should know, he’s been to so many of them—but at least it’s heartfelt. Even Jane is sitting relatively still beneath Terrence’s jacket as though the solemness of the occasion has permeated her furry head and it’s thoughts of herself and Adam and Stanley.
It was a decent coffin, Parker muses. He’d made it himself (and oh, hadn’t Terrence been proud). Chris had started bawling again when he found it was handmade. Parker was surprised to find he didn’t mind the tears then nearly as much as they irked him now. However, he places that down to the guilt he’s so sure he should be feeling. It’s not as if he didn’t like the little green guy, despite the many times he’d been splashed by the contents of whatever was in front of him. Wine, water, food and even blood, once. He knows that he should probably suffer the harsh outdoors for a few minutes longer out of respect to the memory of the frog, and out of respect to Chris.
But the coffee is oh-so-tempting.
Slowly, he bends down and lays a hand on Chris’s shoulder. “C’mon, Chrissy. Let’s get in out of the rain.”
Chris nods slowly and releases his death grip on Adam’s jacket— suspiciously much to Adam’s relief and Parker makes a note to ask him what exactly he was keeping in that pocket. He slowly gets to his feet, using Parker’s offered hand, then bends down again and shovels some of the dirt onto the neat little coffin. Parker does the same, followed by Adam, followed by Terrence, who takes care to smooth down the edge of the grave.
They make their way back down the hill towards the house, Adam carefully taking Jane from Terrence, who barely hisses at all in the rain, and Parker with Chris burrowed into his side, not caring at all about the mud getting all over his new jacket.
And on the hillside, a little granite headstone sits behind a freshly turned patch of dirt with a snail sitting on it.
Stanley Ridge-cookie
1992-ish – 2007
Friend, pet, family member
Will be sorely missed
1992-ish – 2007
Friend, pet, family member
Will be sorely missed