Chapter 42

3rd person pov:

The days following Fourth's death felt like a blur. Time moved, but it was as if Gemini was trapped in a vacuum where the world continued to spin, but he was frozen in place. The hospital room, the quiet beeping of the machines, the scent of antiseptic and cold metal—all of it lingered in his mind like a constant reminder of what he had lost.

Gemini didn't remember much of the funeral. He had been there, of course, standing by Fourth's family, receiving the condolences he barely heard, the hands he barely shook. He didn't understand how everyone else could keep moving, talking, living, as if life was still something worth grasping. He felt like he was living in a dream, his body moving on autopilot, but his mind was still back in that room, holding Fourth's hand, whispering promises he couldn't keep.

The house felt empty. It wasn't the silence that hurt—it was the absence of Fourth. The empty chair across from him at the dining table, the space on the couch where they used to sit together, the places they'd shared moments of laughter and tenderness—it was all gone, replaced by hollow echoes of memories he couldn't hold onto.

Gemini had tried to keep busy, to keep his mind occupied. But nothing seemed to fill the void. He would wake up in the morning, and for a brief moment, he would forget. He would stretch, hear the soft murmur of the house settling around him, and think that today would be like any other. Then, like a sudden storm, the reality would hit him—the aching, crushing emptiness that came with the loss of Fourth.

At night, the loneliness was unbearable. He had once shared his dreams with Fourth, whispered late-night thoughts, laughed at stupid jokes. Now, the silence felt like a weight on his chest, suffocating him. He clung to the memories, replaying them over and over in his mind, but they never seemed to be enough.

Gemini tried to talk to Pond a few times, but each conversation felt like a reminder of what he had lost. Pond's concern was clear, but Gemini could see the pain in his eyes too—Fourth's passing had taken a toll on him, as it had on everyone. Yet, Gemini couldn't seem to find the right words. His grief was all-consuming, and no matter how many times Pond told him he wasn't alone, Gemini couldn't shake the feeling that he was.

One afternoon, Gemini found himself at the garden—the place where he and Fourth had shared so many quiet moments, where they had laughed together, where they had kissed under the fading light of the day. The flowers that bloomed in the spring were now wilting, the vines overgrown, but to Gemini, it was still their place.

He sat there, staring at the spot where Fourth had once sat beside him. His chest tightened as memories flooded his mind—Fourth's smile, the way his fingers felt intertwined with his, the quiet conversations they had about their future. He could almost hear Fourth's voice, as if he was still there.

"Why did you have to leave?" Gemini whispered, his voice breaking. He didn't expect an answer, of course. The question was just a plea to the world, a cry for something that would never come.

Days turned into weeks, and Gemini struggled to find a way forward. He wasn't sure what he was grieving for anymore—the life they had together, or the life they would never have. The idea of moving on felt impossible, like betraying Fourth's memory.

One evening, Phuwin came over, knowing that Gemini was still deep in his sorrow. He didn't push him to talk, but just sat beside him, offering a quiet presence.

"You're not the only one who lost him," Phuwin said softly. "We all did. But you—" He paused, choosing his words carefully. "You were the one who showed him what it meant to love. To truly be loved. That's something no one can take away from you."

Gemini looked at Phuwin, his eyes red from crying, his voice hollow. "I don't know how to live without him. I don't know how to be the person I was before. Everything feels empty."

"You don't have to be that person again," Phuwin said. "You've changed, Gemini. But that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. You learned to love deeply, and you can still carry that with you. Fourth's love didn't end when he passed. He's a part of you now."

It wasn't the answer Gemini had been hoping for, but it was something. He didn't need to be the same person he had been. He could find a way to live with the love Fourth had given him, even if it meant living in the shadow of his loss.