Can’t Let Go

By fallenange13 (fallenange13@earthlink.net)

He tromped through the woods, with Gabumon trailing slightly behind him. The trip had been mostly silent, and with few breaks.

The sullen blonde tore through the dense forest with impressive speed, and remained unflinching, despite the numerous cuts his bare arms had received. He didn’t care. It didn’t matter. He needed to get away from them, from all of them. Solitude. That was what he needed. He was grateful to Gabumon…he’d really shown him true friendship. Maybe now he was one step closer to being worthy of his crest.

God, why wouldn’t they go away? Those damned questions that haunted him, day and night. He just wanted to stop walking, stop moving, to just fall down and sleep for a long time. He was tired, so very, very tired, but he couldn’t afford to sleep. He knew that he probably wouldn’t ever wake up if he went to sleep in this dangerous forest, full of vicious digimon who’d love to take a bite out of him. And no matter how tempting that prospect was, he wouldn’t buy into it.

Matt Ishida was stronger than that.

Poor Gabumon, he thought suddenly. Dragged along by me into dangerous places for no good reason at all. There I go again, thinking for myself instead of worrying about my friends. God! I don’t deserve him.

If he was a good friend, a true friend like Gabumon, he’d tell Gabumon to go somewhere safe. Yes, that’s what he should do. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

He was such a selfish coward. He couldn’t even once just do the right thing for his friend, couldn’t once think of others instead of himself.

Yet, he wondered, was it really so wrong? He just didn’t want to be alone, in truth. No matter what he told himself, he knew better. He really didn’t want to be alone any more.

Matt shook his head, as if to rouse himself from a dream. He had to be alone right now. He was spiraling, falling, falling into a deep pit from which he might never emerge, and Matt knew it. He couldn’t drag anyone down, especially not TK. But then, TK didn’t need him any more, did he? Did anyone need him? Was there anyone out there who would weep for him, should he die?

Not his parents. They didn’t need a rebellious child, who was a mediocre student.

Not the Digidestined. They didn’t need a loser whose crest wouldn’t glow, whose digimon wouldn’t digivolve.

Not Gabumon, certainly. He didn’t need some stupid partner who couldn’t help him digivolve, and couldn’t even live up to his crest enough to look out for Gabumon.

And not TK. Especially not TK. He didn’t need some lame older brother who was too overprotective, and couldn’t even see when he wasn’t needed. He didn’t need some idiot to interfere with his life.

He didn’t remember all that Matt had given up, all those sunny hours playing with kids in the park. He didn’t know the guilt, the horrible, horrible guilt Matt felt after his accident cost their family so much. He couldn’t realize what it had taken him to ward off the neighborhood bullies, how much of a reputation Matt needed to build up and what kinds of things he had to do for it.

TK just knew that his big brother had always been there for him when he need him, and when he didn’t. TK knew that his big brother didn’t hang out with the other kids, that everyone was scared of him. TK remembered that his brother had scared off the bullies that didn’t like TK, that his brother had been the one to pick him up and dry off his tears when their parents weren’t there.

That was TK’s world. Playing in the park, making friends while the sun shone brightly on the playground, and sleeping safely at night; that was what TK knew. He knew of rainbows and candy and a world where people were friendly, and everyone took care of things for him.

He didn’t know about Matt’s world. He didn’t know about bullies and street fights and coming home to a scolding with yet another bloodied nose or swollen eye. He’d never been called in for getting violent, for hurting a kid who’d made fun of his little brother, or his family, or everything about him. TK hadn’t almost cried in fear after learning that he’d failed two subjects, and he’d never had to build a barrier around himself so that his younger brother could play happily in the neighborhood.

TK, in his innocence, didn’t know about making connections, getting offered drugs, and being TEMPTED, which was the worst part. He had never almost committed suicide in desperation, never screamed and shouted and cursed for hours on end with angry parents who wanted to know why, why was there a bad report card, why was there another injury, why was there another phone call from an angry parent with a beaten up kid, why had he been suspended, and most of all they’d always asked why, why did he behave so badly?

That was Matt’s world. He lived with it, never questioning, only knowing that this once he wouldn’t fail. He’d pave the road, get the car, and teach his little brother to drive down that path of life. Hell, HE’D drive the car for him, he’d do whatever it took so that the little boy with admiring blue eyes who looked up to him so much wasn’t corrupted, ruined, horrible and broken like him.

For once, just once, Matt would like to be the little brother to someone. He’d like to have someone to talk to, to be able to spill all his secrets and feelings. He wanted to scream, to cry and shout in frustration, at how easily TK had brushed him off. Just like that. Eight years of his life, all of them dedicated to that young boy, gone. Like that.

There was no mention of fights, of bloody noses and black eyes. He’d never talked about loneliness, the sacrifices.

There was nothing in his little speech about flunking out of class because you were busy ‘convincing’ the hotshot down the road that your little brother was not to be toyed with. There was nothing about getting beaten up by someone’s older brother, not being able to even WANT to fight back because, really, they were just doing the same you were, protecting their younger brother.

TK hadn’t talked about the friends Matt had lost, the people who’d been too scared of him to interact with the local tough guy, Matt Ishida. TK hadn’t asked about the friend’s Matt might have made, the fun he might have had.

And it hurt. It hurt more than anything else in the whole, wide world.

It hurt Matt so much to have everything brushed aside, all his childhood hurts and wanting and loneliness. It was indescribable, the agony that shot through him, as he watched the little brother he’d loved, nurtured, practically RAISED, give him the old heave-ho, just like everyone else in his life.

He stormed through the wildlife, fairly running now, not hearing, or maybe ignoring, Gabumon’s cries for him to slow down. His mood was slowly, but surely, sinking deeper and deeper, closer to despair than anything else.

And all of a sudden, those questions popped into his head. The ones he couldn’t answer, nor get rid of.

And at the same time, he hated himself, he hated everything, he hated the fact that even after all TK said, he was still the protective older brother. He hated the fact that he was following them, just to make sure TK was alright, and he knew it.

He came to a sudden stop, nearly causing a worried and panting Gabumon to run into him. Matt himself leaned against a tree, breathing harder than he had in awhile.

"Matt, are you alright?" Gabumon asked cautiously. "You look very upset."

He managed a small smile, the lopsided one that he’d used to perfect his loner image, the one that had made so many girls fall for him. "Yeah, I’m alright. Just been doing a lot of thinking. I’m sorry for making you run all that way."

Gabumon started to protest, started to say that Matt shouldn’t be sorry, but all of a sudden, sounds of a battle exploded in their ears. They were close, very close. So close that they could hear Tai yelling something, that they could hear the sounds of digivolving and their friends…or, at least, comrades, frantically yelling above the din of battle to each other.

They froze. The two of them, Matt and Gabumon, human and digimon, stood there for a long time, just listening, hoping, hoping for a victory.

A victory that didn’t come. They saw Puppetmon take control of WarGreymon, saw how the Digidestined ran frantically.

They stood and watched as Puppetmon’s house came to life, and stayed there, silent observers, as Puppetmon fled, leaving his 'house' to do the dirty work.

Matt clutched his crest tightly. He might not be worthy of it, but he'd be damned before he'd let some washed-up piece of wood beat him. No one beat Matt Ishida. No one.

"Gabumon..." he whispered.

Good ol' Gabumon. He knew what Matt was asking him to do.

"Gabumon! Digivolved to....MetalGarurumon!"

Together, they walked to the edge of the forest, MetalGarurumon trotting slightly ahead of Matt. He emerged from the forest, coming face to face with Puppetmon.

Matt observed, a trace of a scowl on his face, as Puppetmon ordered MetalGarurumon around and stayed silent until he could take it no longer. The arrogant piece of driftwood was getting to be too much to take.

He thought he was the boss?

"Guess again." Matt spoke almost before he knew what he was doing. As it was, he hardly knew what he was saying when he continued speaking.

He almost smirked when MetalGarurumon made short work of Puppetmon, but then felt like crying when he saw his...friends.

"Matt, thanks!" Sora said.

Matt looked up and saw them all staring at him.

Those blue eyes. Damn and bless those blue eyes that mirrored his own so well. Shining with hope, goddammit!

But, no. He couldn’t go back with them, at least not yet. Not for awhile.

Not while it still hurt so badly. Not while the wound was still open. TK will be able to take care of himself.

He gave them one last, mournful look, before turning and disappearing into the forest.

He sighed, and turned to MetalGarurumon to say something. Before he could speak, something happened.

The ground split open beneath his feet.