Gone
by Gail (gem225@hotmail.com)
JAG
Clayton Webb/Clark Palmer
Rating: adult, for language
The end comes for all things, good or bad.
Real Disclaimer: The characters in this story belong to DPB and CBS.
Angry Disclaimer: Clayton Webb was my Alex's, and Clark Palmer was mine, but I guess now that she's gone, she'd let me take care of her beloved Clayton Webb. DPB can fucking go to hell for all I care; my Alex is dead. There is no justice.
Please do not archive this story without asking me first. It's more than likely that I'll agree, but I want to know where my stories are.
Warning: character death. Much angst. Total mush. Love and squalor, as J.D. Salinger said.
This is in the Eclipse universe, but it's an AU of that. I hope to keep writing Clay and Clark for many years.
For Alex, who loved Webb and Palmer, and I think me, and for Page, who must hold on, since I have to.
*****
Shouldn't have been surprised. That's how Clay was, running the odds and going in anyway. It was important; he told me so.
But not that fucking important. Not important enough to end up with him bleeding on the ground and no one but me to help him. He kept telling me to go ahead, and I kept telling him to fuck off, that the backup would get the rest of the assholes.
I was right. Never got to tell him so. Maybe he believed me. He did stop arguing after a while and just smiled. Loved his smile. I think I told him that. Don't remember.
Not going to remember that much for a while. That's what this bottle is for. And the next one, and the one after that, if I don't pass out. I should pass out pretty soon; I haven't eaten in days. Can't. Food reminds me of him. Couldn't even get down a burger. I should get some ice cream, see if I can take that. I've always liked ice cream. But then so did he. Nope, forget that. Wonder if I'm going to end up starving to death. Not that I care.
I went to the lawyer today. He had a lot of shit to say, but the basis was that I got everything. His mother was there, and she hugged me, then asked if I wanted to come over for dinner. I hope she bought my excuse, but hey, she's his mom. She probably saw right through me. I told her another time. Better make sure I keep that one. Don't want him calling down lightning on me. He'd do it, too, if only to get my attention. Not that he needed anything but a gesture or a look to do that.
Shouldn't have come here. Should have gone home. But hell, this is my home now, right? All mine, once the legal shit gets cleared up. He gave it to me. Our bed, our books, our videotapes. That damned car of his. Even the horses, for Christ's sake. What the fuck am I supposed to do with them? His mother told me she'd expect me on Sunday. Can't miss that. He'd want me to take care of her.
Fuck, Clay, did you have to die? Ten years together, and it's all over. Your boss came to the funeral, and he said we needed to talk. Yeah, I know what about. Time for me to get out. Fine, I'll get out. Maybe I'll finally get Rabb the way he deserves. That could be fun. He's got two kids now. Take one and make him sweat. No, come on, all right, I won't. But he deserves it. You know he does. I don't care if he's married! He fucked you over, and he still hasn't paid. What do you want me to do, sit around and wait for the next X-Files episode? That's not enough, not without you.
What? Fight the Company? We both know that won't work. Tell them I've got information? Yeah, right. What the hell do I know they'll want? You believed me; they're sure I'm crazy. Well, sure I can back it up, but first I've got to... all right, I got it already. Get the proof, go to your boss, make him believe me.
So why should I bother? The world can go to hell, Clay. No, don't take it away from me! I need to get drunk, Clay. I need to.
Bed? Will you be there? Well, all right then. Jeez, it's the damned thing, Clay; I thought you were dead. Yeah, dumb of me, huh? Yeah. I'll make breakfast and clean up in the morning. Don't know what I was thinking. Guess I wasn't thinking at all. Need you for that, you know.
Hey, Clay? Have to say this now. Love you. Keep forgetting to tell you.
The man sprawled over the bed fell into an uneasy sleep, and the figure standing by him sighed.
*I love you, too, Clark. I should have said it out loud. Hang on. I'll be here when I can.*
He stroked the man's head over and over again, then stopped, pulled the blanket at the end of the bed over the man, and looked up.
And then Clark Palmer was alone.
The End
Posted 7/1/01
