Fan Fic for Alternate Ending of Legend Series

For the first few weeks while Day is in hospital, the crowd outside won’t go away. I hear their chants so often they’ve started to leak into my dreams now. Dreams that are always filled with either Day, or my brother. Or dreams where they are both notably absent… when I have those dreams it isn’t much different from reality, and that scares me the most. Metias comes to me too often to count… he warns me not to follow in his footsteps.

He tells me he misses me. And sometimes he just stands there, watching over me, as he always has done. Day usually shows up with sadness in his eyes, grief and torture over what I’ve done to him. All that pain I’ve caused him, all that anguish. He can’t just die… can he? Occasionally though, my dreams of him are happy.

I will relive our night together, the morning too, holding his hands as he wakes up and love floods into his eyes.

Or relive a memory from before I ruined his life; our first kiss, his blue eyes staring down at me as he burst out of the fog. I always come out of those dreams crying, sobbing uncontrollably into Tess’s shoulder, or my pillow, or an empty waiting room. I cry because these dreams are just that – dreams, lies. They aren’t welcome in the real world, but I find myself clinging onto them regardless. Who doesn’t lie to themselves sometimes? As I contemplate my dreams I hear the door open behind me, I whip around to see who it is.

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Maybe it’s a doctor come to give some good news? The sudden movement leaves me dizzy and swaying in my seat – which is strange – as a blurry person approaches.

I clear my eyes and look up at a friend.Tess smiles down at me with a warmth altogether special. It almost lifts my spirits. Almost. But at the back of my mind is the dark, tortuous image of Day lying still on that bed. I put on a brave face and smile up at Tess. “Morning.” I say, trying to be as chipper as I can, and not sounding at all convincing. “Hiya June, how is he today?” Tess sits down gently beside me, her hair bouncing in the air. “Alright, but last night the doctors said he was struggling a bit, that he might not make it. He was wheezing as well, as if he was having trouble breathing. It was the most frightened I’ve ever been…” my head falls into my hands, “worse than his leg, worse than with the chancellor, worse than anything. Because I was sitting there with him, holding his hand, and there was literally nothing I could do. Nothing.”

I mumble as tears burst forth, too quickly to count. So I count the cracks in the floor beneath my feet instead. Even though I know there are 57. “You were here all night again, weren’t you?” Tess lays her hand softly onto my back, her presence is enough to unwind some of the tension in my muscles. I look up at her with tired eyes, and tears trailing down my cheeks. Stopping my counting at 46 cracks. “Yes. It’s… I feel like he can hear me, or sense my presence, or something.” “Oh June.” She smiles sadly and wraps me up in one of her amazing hugs. For some reason Tess and I have become friends, she has overcome her anger towards me. Whether it be circumstance, guilt, equally shared sorrow, or just the need for someone. Preferably someone who is going through the same thing. I know, because these are all things I feel myself. But for whatever reason, I am so grateful for her. She is my rock.

I stay in her arms, sobbing even when I don’t really understand why… I mean I know why, I’ve just never cried like this before. I feel funny, it must be because I’ve stayed up every night this past week. “June, I know it’s hard, but he wouldn’t want you doing this to yourself. If anyth–“ Tess stutters and stops for a breath, her following words are a rasp, “if anything happens to him, you have to promise me and promise yourself that you will get out there and live your life. He would want that, and you owe him that much.” “I don’t know if I can Tess. But I can’t even think of that anyway, not right now.” I start to feel a little queasy, so I rise from my chair, swaying on my feet for a second, “I’ve got to go, will you excuse me.” I rush off to the toilet, trying not to fall over in my hurry. And suddenly I can’t hold it in any longer. I spot a bin at the side of the corridor, bend over it, and throw up everything in my stomach.

Not that there’s much, I’ve not felt up for eating anything recently. A door opens farther down the corridor, and I try to hide at the edge of the hall, but there isn’t anything to hide behind. They’ll see me soon, whoever they are. I don’t have any energy left to get up anyway. “Miss, miss, are you alright?” A kindly looking doctor comes hurrying down the corridor. Not Day’s doctor, but I’ve seen her a few times. Her name is Daisy, I know from glancing at a file she held a week ago. “Yes, I felt a little ill for a second there, but I feel much better now.” I smile up at her concerned face, but she doesn’t back down. “Did you eat something funny recently?” Daisy asks me, holding out her hands to help me to my feet. I take them, and slowly climb – however unsteadily – to a standing position.

“I haven’t really eaten much of anything recently.” I look at Daisy a little sheepishly, “I haven’t had much of an appetite, especially with all that’s going on.” Daisy must only just realise who I am, because a light goes off in her eyes and she looks at me with pity. “Oh gosh of course! But remember, you should make sure you eat regular meals, otherwise you’ll make yourself feel worse.” She starts to smile, and takes my cold hands in her warm ones. “It’s going to be alright dear,” her smile almost brings tears to my eyes, there’s so much kindness there, “but you can’t let yourself fade away.” “Alright, I’ll try to eat more.” “Thank you dear, you’ve put my heart at rest.” I start to pull away, but before I can she says, “do you need any help getting to a seat? Or will you be alright on your own?”

“No I’ll be fine, but thank you so much.” She looks like she doesn’t really want to let me go, but eventually she nods and hurries away. Probably heading off to get a cleaner, I feel awful for a second but it quickly recedes as I feel another wave of nausea overcome me. This time I make it to the bathroom. Tess looks quite worried when I walk back into the waiting room, she stands up and walks purposefully towards my swaying body standing in the doorway. “What’s wrong June? Are you okay?” She looks just as concerned as Daisy did, but I’m not all that surprised, especially since I’ve been gone such a long time. “I wasn’t feeling well.” I mumble, but Tess simply puts her hands on her hips and I know I can’t get away with lying to her, “I was feeling ill because I haven’t been eating properly.” I let it all out in an angry string of words, I don’t even know who I’m angry at, Tess for forcing me to tell her? Daisy for telling me that I’m hurting myself?

Or me for letting my body fall into such disrepair? I haven’t ever stopped taking care of myself, not even when Metias died – I had a mission then, someone to track down, someone to blame. But this… this emptiness… this lack of an aim… this inability to help. It is worse than anything I have ever faced before, because there is absolutely nothing I can do to help Day! “June? June?” Tess starts to wave her hands in front of my face and I blink back into existence. “What?” I spit, Tess looks taken aback and suddenly I feel so guilty, so horrible, and I just start to cry, right there in the waiting room. “I’d guess you’ve also not been getting enough sleep recently too?” Tess raises an eyebrow at me as she guides me to a seat.

“I’ve nev- never got li-li-like this before! I always look after my body. But I don’t think I can find the strength…” I stumble through the words, choking on tears, as Tess strokes my back soothingly. This has to be the seventh time I’ve cried today, that’s new too. “It’s alright June, you’re going through a tough time right now. But you’ve got to be strong for me, and for Day.” She starts to cry too now, “he wouldn’t want you to just waste away at his side, he’d want you out there, doing the things you love.” “But I can’t leave him alone! What if something happens?” Tess squeezes me into a hug. “Well then he has me, or Pascao, or Eden and Lucy. But he also has you, and it’s okay to come in often, but you can’t be here all of the time. It wouldn’t be fair on you, or on Day.” I know that she’s right, but I can’t seem to let myself think about leaving Day alone. He always looks so alone when I see his frail body lying in that huge hospital bed.

“Alright June, if you won’t listen to me, then at least think about what Metias would say.” I cringe, she’s struck low, and she looks guilty enough that I instantly forgive her. She’s only trying to help me. She’s going through an even worse time than me, she has to worry about both Day and me. I feel like the most selfish person at that moment. I should take better care of myself, if not for me, then for her. “I know.” And it is all I can say. I know exactly what Metias would say, he would agree with Tess, maybe I should listen to them. I’m just so tired, so bone weary. I can’t stand another second in this waiting room, waiting for something that seems it will never come. It makes me feel even more ill thinking about what I have become in this waiting room. So I lean my head against the wall and I close my eyes. Suddenly all I can see is Metias. He’s sitting beside me in one of the waiting room chairs.

“Hey Junebug.” He smiles so warmly at me that I feel my chest cave in just a little, “what’s up?” “Nothing.” I say quietly, and he gives me a disapproving, but also light-hearted look. “Junebug, I have known you your whole life. I have seen you at your best and at your worst, I have seen you be cheeky and kind, I have seen you be everything under the sun. Do you really thing you can get away with lying to my face?” A huge grin splits across his face, and I feel my heart pump sluggishly in my chest again. “It’s Day…” I look down at the ground, I can’t look at him even though that’s all I want to do. I can’t see that smile. “I know that’s not true and so do you.” He sounds a lot more disapproving now.

“It’s…” I almost can’t say it, but I force it between my clenched teeth, “it’s me. I can’t deal with this emptiness without Day, this helplessness. I feel so stuck, I can’t do anything without bursting into tears. I am just so lost and I don’t know how to find myself again, every day I feel myself wasting away more and more, and I don’t know how to stop it. I’m a failure!” “Oh, June.” I look up so quickly it’s almost jarring, his smile has been replaced with a frown, and something in me – no matter how ugly it is – is glad for it, at least I don’t have to see the smile I miss so much. “I know you’re going through a tough time right now, but you need to take care of yourself, you need to put yourself first for once. You are helping no-one by refusing. You need to start looking after June.” I open my mouth to speak, and he interrupts me immediately, “I know what you’re going to say, that you can’t just leave Day. But this isn’t leaving Day, it does not mean you have to stop visiting him, or stop taking care of those you love, but it does mean also taking care of yourself.”

He gives me a hard stare, one that brokers to the opposition. “I know.” I whisper, my throat clenching tight. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself Junebug. Promise me.” He looks so frightened, so frightened for me, of what I’m doing to myself. That fear is all I can see, and it is what finally does me in. “I promise.” I say to him. His answering smile is the best thing I’ve seen in months, but it soon disappears as I wake up in a familiar apartment, with my lovely dog whining and snuffling at my hand. A small tear sits in my eye, whether because I’m sad to lose my brother again or because I’m happy to know he’s still with me, guiding me through life. I really don’t know. I blink away the tear, and rise as if from the grave. My body aches all over, and my throat feels like sandpaper. But I also feel a lot more rested than I did yesterday… or was it yesterday?

How long have I actually been asleep? I look around for any clues. Well my sandpaper throat is one already, I must not have drank anything in a while, but it isn’t conclusive. The fact that I’ve been moved all the way to my apartment is a sign in itself, there’s no way that was a quick or easy endeavour. My eyes start scanning the floor… and there: an armchair that’s supposed to be in the corner has been moved a lot closer to the bed. As if someone has been waiting for me to wake up, which wouldn’t be the case if I had only been here over night. On the coffee table beside my bed is an over-turned book, whoever was waiting for me was waiting a while. But the most convincing of all? You can easily see the room has been moved around in. Where there had been months’ worth of dust lying on this bedroom floor, thanks to my tendency to crash on the couch whenever I came home for those bare hours where I fed Ollie and slept for what seemed like no time at all, before heading back to the hospital waiting room.

I haven’t stepped foot in my room since Day… well since he was admitted to the hospital. And yet the dust has been mostly cleared. I must’ve been here for quite a few days for someone to be bored enough to clean up a little. The room smells fresh as well, as if it has been aired out enough times to permanently make it smell of rain and grass and… oh the smell just brings me back to the track, I can almost feel my muscles clenching in anticipation of the run I am yearning to do. I just want to get out there to the rain and the mud and the exhilaration. Something that I have been lacking these past months. I promised Metias I would take care of myself, running is taking care of myself! I feel my mouth curve into a strange shape, I haven’t smiled in so long, it feels so unfamiliar. But I am too excited to actually do something, even if that something is just running around in circles.

I want to just get out into the outside. And so I slowly pull myself out of bed, feet inching towards the floor before I finally stand up. It’s time to get moving. When I feel my feet hit the floor I crumple to the ground, catching myself on the bed-post at the last second. Maybe running is out of the question, but walking might not be too much? I sit at the edge of the bed testing my muscles before I stand again. I stretch them this way and that until I’m certain that I can stand without falling flat on my face. When I’m finally satisfied I steal a deep breath before I head into my sitting room. What I find waiting there for me is something I definitely didn’t expect.

Anden is sitting there leafing through a newspaper, eyes tearing holes through the page. He’s so engrossed with the paper that he doesn’t even hear as I approach him from behind to see what has his unflinching attention. It is a picture of me. But not the June I should be, it’s the June I see glaring accusations at me from mirrors these days. On the very rare occasion that my eyes pass over a reflective surface. This picture shows a girl I didn’t know I had become, one who is barely even there anymore. The caption reads: “Our Once Great Prodigy… Gone?” Am I though? Gone? I suppose it has felt that way for the past few weeks.

“How could you let yourself become this way June?” Anden spins around and stares into my eyes with so much pain. I stumble back, both from the shock that he knew I was there, and the accusation in his question. I am hurting him too. I’ll have to add him to the steadily growing list: Day, Tess, Metias, Pascao, Lucy, Daisy, and now Anden as well. I shouldn’t keep hurting people. “I don’t know, Anden. I really don’t know.” I look down at the carpet, focussing on the overlapping patterns instead of the pain so clear on his face. “Well I’m not going to stand it any longer. You’re going to sit down, I’m going to make an amazing dinner, and you’re going to eat every last bite. Is that understood?” I smile, and look back at his matching grin. “Yes sir!” I say, saluting. He then gently leads me to a chair at the dining room table, wrapping a blanket around my shoulders, and gets to work in the kitchen. To say it surprises me that he knows how to cook is an understatement.

I sit still for the 21 minutes and 46 seconds that it takes him to cook the food, with my legs pulled up against my chest, snuggled up in a blanket. And finally, Anden returns from the kitchen with two plates. He has piled my plate high with the garlic chicken, rice and greens. It is one of the most delicious meals I have ever eaten, no matter that I normally hate chicken and garlic paired together. I must be really hungry. True to his word, Anden makes me eat every last bit, and I am so thankful for that. I’m not sure I would have gotten through the meal otherwise. Just as I’m finishing the meal, I decide to voice my plan.“I think I’m going to go to the track now.” I almost whisper, but Anden hears every word. I can tell by the way his eyes sparkle with happiness. “That sounds like a good idea to me.” He replies, so slowly I can tell he’s trying not to break apart this tentative idea in my mind.