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She looked almost the same as she did on a normal bad day. When she couldn’t move much. Had to stay in bed much of the day and was only capable to get up in the late afternoon. Her skin was a shade more pale and she just.. there was something missing. She just didn't quite look like herself anymore. She was just...she…
Gust stared at her body and couldn’t think.
He was just..staring.
He didn’t really feel anything. He just looked at her face. Twenty-six years old. Twenty six. It had been her birthday less than two weeks ago. They had held a small party for her at the house. Ginger hadn’t felt too well that day and they had almost canceled the whole thing but she had insisted and now she was...she was…
He shook his head, unbelieving. Panic started rising within him, images rushing through his head. Remembering when she was born. When Pah had explained to him that mother hadn’t… that she was…
He remembered running out then, he remembered screaming and yelling at his newborn sister. He remembered Pah crying, dragging him away, begging him to stop, that it wasn’t her fault…
And for years and years he’d been so…
Tears rolled from his eyes and he turned away to get out.
He couldn’t handle this, he just couldn’t-
“Gust-”
He stopped for a moment, unable to turn around, unwilling to let them see him cry.
Pah put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault. It’s… you were a good brother to her.”
He heard the deep, fresh pain in his fathers voice and it just made him more angry. He swallowed his tears to make his voice normal. “No. I wasn’t. I gotta go, Pah. I.. I have to go. I’m sorry.”
He walked out of the house calmly then started running. He ran down the stairs to peach plaza and out of the city, away from the people, away-
His throat was burning. He didn’t want to go home yet, he couldn’t go home he just-
A desperate urge to scream broiled within him. How childish! How stupid! He couldn’t stop thinking about, he couldn’t stop-
He’d been such a shitty brother.
She’d been a kid. Just a kid and he had blamed her. Had been cold to her. Told her to her face that she had killed his mother. What a fucking shithead he’d been. The worst. Despicable. Horrible. And still she’d…
She’d…
He reached the beach.
They had sat here many times. Often he had painted or had told her things about Atara and other cities he’d been to. She had loved to hear about faraway places. He had always hoped she might improve eventually, that she could maybe, one day, actually see one of those faraway places herself but he had known it was foolish, he’d known she wasn’t...wouldn’t…
Ginger… I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I-”
He sat down in the snow and drew his hands through the snow.
He wanted to scream and wail and punch something but he just...couldn’t.
He sat in the snow.
It was cold.
His sister was dead.
She was dead and he just sat here and couldn’t even grieve her right. She had been such a kind, pure person and he wasn’t even properly crying over her. He knew it would have been appropriate but it was like he was incapable of feeling enough suddenly! Fuck! Even in her death he failed her! Like he had all his life, like he had all the time!
He had the impulse to rub the cold snow into his own face but it was probably dirty so he didn’t do it. Besides, it would be stupidly dramatic. There was no point to this. Any of this, really.
Ginger was dead.
Ginger was dead!
He couldn’t believe it.
He had seen her body himself just now and still he…
He didn’t really believe it. He expected them to tell him it wasn’t true, it had been a bad joke, she had wanted to really play a truly bad prank on him for once for being emotionally imbalanced toward her all his life. Leaving her alone for years only to smother her with constant supervision as soon as he was back without even much of an apology. Its how it had been. He had just felt.. He just…
It had been so stupid. He had never really managed to talk to her about it. To make her understand, to understand even himself, really!
He put his face into his hands for a moment, then stopped and stood up again. There was no point to any of this. He didn’t know when the funeral would be…
The funeral…
Another death in winter.
In the cold.
Another day he’d spend at the cemetery. It felt like he’d been there a thousand days through his life and yet it was never enough, never enough, he could never-
He shook the snow off his pants and started walking back to the workshop.
There was no way he would get any work done today and he really, really didn’t want to explain to Albert what had happened yet – much worse, he couldn’t deal with anyone asking about her yet! He just…
He groaned as he opened the garden gate and walked back onto the property.
What should he tell his spouse?
What should he…?
They had been friends too, after all. Family, by law. Ginger had been happy for them when they’d gotten married. Had encouraged him to spend more time at home and less time with her.
Would he have done differently if he’d known she’d pass so soon?
He stood in front of the door, key in his hand.
They didn’t know.
They didn’t know and he’d have to tell them…
God, he didn’t want to. He didn’t want to have to tell them. He didn’t want it to be true! It wasn’t fair! None of this was fair!
The door opened and his spouse stopped mid movement, mildly startled. “There you are! I was just about to check on one of the furnaces and-” They stopped mid-sentence. Gust couldn’t look at them. He just.. He stared on the ground. Maybe he should move out of the way, let them past so they could do their work-
His spouse put a hand on his cheek. So warm. Objectively pleasant. But-
He moved away from it. “I’m sorry. I.. can’t do...closeness, right now.”
Tears ran from his eyes again. He couldn’t help it. He couldn’t… couldn’t even think! His mind was so stuck, his stupid, useless mind…
The one thing he had ever prided himself with. Too scared to let people see the heart beneath it…
His spouse grasped his hand and drew him into the house. Gust didn’t help, didn’t struggle. He just.. let the, do it. He stared on the ground, numb.
Ginger was dead.
He didn’t feel capable to speak.
----
They looked at their husband in deep worry. They had never seen him like this. Yes, sometimes he became a bit reclusive, when he got too much into a project, when he was moody or anything, but it was never like this. In those cases he usually explained what was going on. He still met thier eyes, he still kissed them and generally asked to be left alone for a bit or said that he’d have to spend a lot of time in his office or anything like that-
He didn’t just stare holes into the ground silently. Rebuffing affection.
He also generally wasn’t one to cry, not even in front of them.
A horrible, leaden weight filled the builder more and more.
Gust had been called away by a phone-call very early and hadn’t said where he was going. But he hadn’t been away long. He hadn’t even checked on their baby this morning which was usually the first thing he did...
There were only so many things that could have happened to unsettle him this much.
The builder looked at him a moment longer, but Gust stood still as a statue. Snow dripping off his boots. They sighed quietly. “Okay. I don’t know what happened but I can tell you’re in some kind of shock state. I know you don’t want me to be close to you right now. But I am here, when you do, okay?" They looked at him for a moment to make sure he had understood their words before continuing: "I will now make you sit down and take your boots off because they’re dirty, alright?”
Gust sprang into action at the word dirty. Or rather, he looked at his feet very slowly and sighed deeply. Then he bend down very slowly and took his boots off, put them beside the door and went to wash his hands. The builder looked at him with worry. Watched him dry his hands mechanically. Walk by their baby without much of a glance and sit down on the sofa where he hung his head again.
Gust usually made a point of caring for their baby for a bit in the morning. It was important to him. Today he hadn’t even held their child yet.
He sat there with an empty look in his eyes in a way that was like a silent scream of deep-seated agony.
How could they possibly help him?
Gust had always been emotional repressed. Even now, after four years of marriage, there were things he outright refused to speak about. The thing he got most touchy about had always been his mother.
Or, more accurately, her death.
This felt like a similar avenue, which just worsened the feeling in the pit of their stomach.
The builder looked at their partner for a long moment, then made a decision. “I have to run to town for a little bit. Will you be okay without me for a little bit? I’ll take the baby with me so you won’t have to do anything.”
Gust nodded numbly. The builder repressed a sigh, nodded back and went to pack up the baby. They wanted so badly to just go to their partner and hold him. Make him let the emotions out, make him tell them what was going on.
But Gust didn’t function like that. Yes, there were times when they could help him find catharsis, where they could help him face his feelings and troubles and actually deal with them, but this so didn’t feel like the time. And they would never disrespect their husbands wishes in such a regard…
They bundled the baby up in a carrying-cloth to their chest, went to the door and looked back one more time at their husband.
Gust was looking into nothingness, head hung. His eyes looked numb and far away. The builder wanted to cry just seeing him in so much pain, but they had to figure out what exactly was even going on before they could attempt to help him. And Gust clearly wouldn’t be talking much anytime soon.
They made sure the baby was safely strapped to themself, then climbed onto the flying pig, strapped themself up and quickly made their way to the mayors house. If they were right- and they hoped, they mentally begged they weren't…
Then none in this household would be leaving the house anytime soon.
They anxiously parked the pig, walked to the door and rung the doorbell.
It took a while for Russo to answer. He looked much like he always did, only even more stern, even more serious.
“Russo… Sorry to disturb at this hour.”
He nodded. “What can I do for you?” His voice sounded weaker than usual.
The builder swallowed hard. The answer seemed so obvious but… they had to know for certain. “I… I’m sorry. I really am. But. I... Gust won’t say a word and I… I’m sorry. I had to know what happened. I’m assuming… It’s Ginger…?”
Russo nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, taking a labored breath. “She died in the early hours of the morning. Dr. Xu tried everything he could but… there was nothing-” His voice broke for a moment and he stopped, shaking his head.
The builder couldn’t help the tears threatening from within themselves. “I. I understand. I am so very sorry. My condolences. To Gale, too.”
Russo nodded, and now that they knew for real, the builder could really see the defeat in him, the shattering loss and it catalyzed the emotions within themselves to, making this more real, more definitive. “I...” They chocked slightly, wiping the fresh tears from their eyes. “I have to go… check on Gust. Is the funeral…?”
“Tomorrow. 8am. We want to...do it early so people won’t...” he choked again, now wiping his own eyes though the builder hadn’t seen any tears on his face. “I apologize for my lack of composure. But yes. I’m assuming I will see you tomorrow. Please excuse me.”
The builder nodded. “Sure. Thank you Russo-”
“Oh uhm, builder, one more thing.”
“Yeah?”
“I...am very glad. Master Gust has you to look after him during this time.”
The builder tensed and nodded. “I will.”
--------------------------
Gust had gone to bed and just stared at the ceiling.
It felt more appropriate to stay out of the living room. He didn’t feel like he could handle taking care of their baby right now but at the same time, he felt so…
Sad? Lonely?
He wanted to be alone but he also...didn’t?
How irrational!
He just didn’t feel like he could do anything right now. His mind was frozen. He kept thinking of Ginger…
Ginger…
So many times he should have done better. He had wanted to be nicer to her but he just didn’t..manage to. He just couldn’t really let his guard down. So many times he had chastised himself for speaking harsh to her, for bossing her around even when he was trying to be nice, when he just wanted to help her, protect her, make things easier for her and yet he had failed, over and over and over again, as he had failed now for the final time in not preventing her death.
He turned on his side.
He wanted his partner to comfort him.
But he couldn’t ask for it.
He just..
Fuck he was so stupid. Why was he like this? Why was it so hard to just… say what was going on? He hadn’t even told them yet, he just… couldn’t. He couldn't say the words.
Darling… I’m sorry to tell you this but… my sister… my sister is… Ginger is-
He chocked out a dry sob just trying to say it in his mind.
He couldn’t cry.
He felt that this would be a proper time to do it. He managed to cry a little earlier. But he just didn’t- This just wasn’t a thing he did much, but the emotions were just… they were screaming and wailing in a compressed cube deep inside of him, but he couldn’t… He just felt so incapable of dealing with this.
He heard the front door open and felt relief at the same time as annoyance. He didn’t want them to come close to him, but at the same time needed it. He needed them to come and hold him and force him to feel and make him let out this horrible aching sadness that his sister was dead, she was dead and he hadn’t done anything to stop it, hadn’t even tried, hadn’t been there!
He grimaced, clawing his hands into his face, choking out dry sobs in anger and desperation.
She had died alone.
Had she realized it was happening?
Had she lien awake, feeling the life flow out of her, anxious and afraid, calling for help perhaps for noone to hear her because the room next to hers, his room, was empty at this point?
They had installed a call button in her room for her to get help if she needed it and couldn’t move but what if she hadn’t been able to move, hadn’t been able to find it in the darkness?
He couldn’t stop imagining it…
How she would have lien there. Her breath going shallow. Trying to move but she had been too weak… quietly calling for help but noone would hear her.
Maybe he could have saved her if he hadn’t moved out. Getting married had been selfish. Yes, he had wanted it.. so much. More than anything since he had moved back here. But his sister shouldn’t have had to pay this price!
He heard steps approach. Gust turned to face away from the door, unable to look at them. He was curled up in himself and just… fuck, he was so weak. Pathetic! This was no way for him to conduct himself! He should be stronger! He shouldn’t be so weak. But he couldn’t cope. He had rationally known that this was the likely outcome for his sisters life – a death much too early, undignified. Her dreams unfulfilled. But he had never faced the reality of it, had never forced himself to truly think about it because it was too terrible…
The builder sat down on the bed and put a hand on his arm. Gust didn’t flinch. Didn’t make them leave. They lay down and embraced him.
Gust stared ahead for a moment, then turned and let himself be cradled.
-------------------
The builder held and stroked their partner. Gust clung to them in a way he never had before, trembling and crying slightly. It felt like Gust was physically forcing himself to cry in oddly throaty, choking sobs, pressing his face into their shoulder while his hands clawed into them. The builder tried to think of anything to say or to do but he just didn’t know what. All the clichéd phrases one could say seemed wrong and well, cliché. Things wouldn’t be okay and Gust was clearly already struggling to let his emotions out in the first place. It made them feel helpless. They too were stricken with grief at Gingers death but their husbands suffering came first. Gust had been devoted to care for his sister for as long as they had known him. It had actually been one of the very first things they had learned about him. That his sister was what was most important, second even to his own career dreams, his own well-being...
Gust’s quiet sobs turned to labored breathing after a while. He seemed less tense now. Exhausted from crying, limp against the builder for a moment. They kept holding him, stroking him softly, trying to make him feel...what? Safe? Comforted? There was this ocean of grief somewhere within both of them, this immeasurably deep well. How could safety or comfort still any of that?
Ginger was dead. She would never hold the baby again, would never celebrate another birthday or spend an afternoon on the beach with them when it was a more cloudy day.
Gust sighed deeply. He shifted slightly to lie more comfortable but still wouldn’t look at them, still kept his face hidden against them…
“...when mother died...when Ginger was born...I yelled at her.”
The builder swallowed heavy. He’d never heard Gust speak with such a ragged voice. He’d never broached this subject on his own…
“...I yelled at her.. a lot. I was so angry with her. All the time. Whenever I missed mother. Whenever I felt alone. That Pah was spending all of his time with her, that he even got a butler to help out in the house so he could focus more on his job rather than on us… I was mad at him too. I freaking yelled at him the day she was born! I said...” He sobbed again, clawing against them harder. “I said she killed mother. On the day of her death I said that to Pah! On the day of his wives death I said his daughter had killed her! I said it to her too! Multiple times when we were growing up. I was so… Oh god I was so terrible to her and I never apologized! When I got older I just got colder towards her and avoided her, told her to leave me alone when all she wanted was to play with me or do stuff with me and I...I...” He cried heavily now, wetting the builders neck and clothes but it didn’t matter.
“Took me years to get my act together. Being away helped. Being on my own completely for long made me appreciate her more, made me think about it objectively and I realized how much of a fucking asshole I’d been but so much time had passed already! And when I came back...” He shook his head, pressing harder into them, sobbing. “Sh-She was just...happy to see me. She was so pure, so friendly. She should have hated me but she even wrote me while I was away saying she missed me and by the end I always lost it when I read those cards because she was so pure and loving and I was an asshole who barely even replied. I wanted to apologize when I got back but I… I didn’t know how. I didn’t know how so I just… did what I could for her. Helped her where I could, learned every goddamn detail about her condition, any small thing that might help her and I still couldn’t safe her! And in the end she died alone. She died alone because I wasn’t there anymore, because I was selfish again like I’ve always been selfish...”
The builder had cried with him but at those words they had to interject. “That’s not true. Gust you were hurt by your mothers death. Yes, you acted bad towards your sister but you were just a kid! You didn’t know better and didn’t have proper time or room to process her death." They spoke quietly but earnestly, trying to make him hear them. "And Ginger clearly knew you loved her, even then. You worked hard to be there for her when you came back, and even if you never apologized to her, I’m sure she knew. She knew you loved her when she died, I am absolutely certain.”
Gust shook his head, whining. “She shouldn’t have been alone… She shouldn’t have… If I had been there, maybe I could have...”
“I’m sorry but… I saw Dr. Xu and asked about it. He said Gingers condition had been getting worse for months. Since she didn’t tell us I think... she made a conscious decision not to. He also said she died in her sleep. She didn’t wake up when it happened. She didn’t suffer in that moment, Gust.” They stroked through his hair slowly, brushing their lips over his husbands face, trying to comfort him. “There was nothing any of us could have done. Its horrible and unfair and tragic but… we couldn’t have saved her. Neither of us.”
----------
She was lowered into the grave.
They watched as the earth was slowly placed over her coffin.
Gust stared ahead.
He felt numb now. Numb to all this pain. This immeasurable loss. He stared onto the dark Earth that had seemed like it had filled the grave too quickly. His sisters life seemed so insignificant with her body buried just like that. Like she was erased from existence. This pure and kind person who had always just wanted to live, really. To be able to play and find joy in the sunshine with others.
Gust stared onto the headstone long after his father had left, long after Russo had gone with him.
His spouse stood by his side, unwavering. Quietly supporting him.
He was so lucky to have them. So lucky he wasn’t alone in this.
He remembered how happy Ginger had been for him when he had told her he was going to get married. That they had accepted his proposal. Her eyes had lit up in pure joy and she had hugged him. He usually hadn’t allowed it, but that one time, that moment. He’d been overjoyed and she had shared his happiness. She hadn’t resented him for leaving her alone. She’d been happy for him.
Tears started running from his eyes again, finally. He didn’t have to force them. He didn’t sob. The tears just flew out of his eyes, heavy but pure. He grasped his partners hand, remembering…
How Ginger had congratulated them the day of their wedding. How she had loved carrying their baby around. The overflowing joy she had clearly felt at becoming an aunt and when the baby had first said her name. Those times when they had gone on small trips with the baby and her. As a family.
Gingers life had been much too short. But he would always remember her.
She would always be a part of him.
His partner squeezed his hand. Gust looked up into their eyes for the first time in a day. They were crying too. But there was also love in their eyes. Love for him. Love for his sister. Who would always have a place within both of them. Gust smiled at them sadly and kissed their hand.
“Thank you.”