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March 23rd, 2011

bandearg_rois: (bones2)
Wednesday, March 23rd, 2011 00:33
 Title: Facing Eternity
Author: [livejournal.com profile] bandearg_rois 
Word Count:
Warnings: "death" fic, extreme angst
Summary: John "Reaper" Grimm must once again leave someone he loves, though this time, he loved by choice.
Author's Note: This is totally unbetaed, written at Midnight. You have been warned.

This would be the hardest thing John has had to do since he fought alongside and watched men he'd considered brothers die in a veritable Hell. He had been Leonard McCoy for 12 years, longer than he'd spent in any other identity, and it was time to move on. He fingered the vial of C24 in his pocket, but didn't make any other move to pull it out. He had no reason to use it.

He looked down at the PADD, and then out the window, staring at the San Francisco skyline. He didn't want to write this letter, had never had to write one before, but this time, he couldn't just slide out of his current life. He was too well-known now, to too many people that had too much power. He continued to stare for a few minutes, before finally picking up the stylus.

Dear Jim,

This isn't how I want to say this, but face to face isn't exactly an option. I need you to know that I love you, I've loved you since the day we met on that god-forsaken shuttle. Part of me wishes we could have been more, but it's not in the cards. I have to go away, and I'm going to ask you not to look for me. I won't be anywhere you can think to look.

Thank you, for being my best friend, really the only one I've ever had, and know that I treasure that, and it will stay with me to the end of my days. Please tell the Hobgoblin that if he goes looking for me, he'll get a nasty surprise. And apologize to Nyota. I was supposed to help her with something, and I never got the chance.

I love you, Jim Kirk, even though you're an infant brat who drove me up the bulkhead more often than not. Please, move on, find someone, do your version of settling down. I don't want you to end up alone and unhappy. I'll miss you, kid.


The PADD was untraceable, a throwaway he'd had stashed for years, waiting for a need to use it. He sent the message from an anonymous account, hours later, from a cafe across town from his apartment. And then he finalized his plans. The next morning saw one Conor Grimm heading out on passenger freight to Corinthium IX, one planet the Enterprise would never visit, and a twisted, burned out heap of metal with Leonard McCoy's DNA inside of it at the bottom of a ravine a few hours outside of San Francisco.

And something John didn't know: one man, a blond human, approximately 30 years old, clutched his PADD in a white-knuckle grip, silent tears sliding down his face.