Work Text:
Delilah Grey
Time unknown.
If Delilah had known her Death Cast call was real, she would've spent her last day with the people she loved.
She would've called her friends, maybe spoken to her parents for the first time in 8 years. She might've gone to see her ex-boyfriend, perhaps reminisce at Althea park about their first meeting, how she'd been stood up by her date and he offered to keep her company whilst she waited on that cold afternoon.
Delilah had so many regrets in the last few minutes of her life. She shouldn't have spent the day working, she shouldn't have been so careless as to hop in a car with other deckers, she should've called Victor from the beginning or logged onto the fucking website and spent her day right.
Then again, she wouldn't have had the chance to meet Howie Maldonado.
But none of it mattered in the end, death still came for Delilah Grey.
Right now, Delilah is sitting in a chair. Or, she's pretty sure she is anyway. Everything is sort of fuzzy and hard to make out, like a dream. There's a figure standing across from Delilah who, earlier, took her name and asked if she had any relatives or friends here she'd like to see. But Delilah couldn't possibly focus on what they were saying.
She has no memory of the accident, the last clear picture in her head of Victor speeding down the road towards her. It's strange how vivid that one memory is, she can see every leaf on every tree and even spot the boy about to step out in front of Victor's car, headphones on, grinning like mad at his phone, his eyes beginning to prick with tears. Delilah wonders if he's down here too. Down? Up? She's still not quite sure where she is but one thing is certain; this is not a place for the living.
The figure looks back up at Delilah and points towards a group of people. "That's where today's New York Deckers are gathered," the figure says with a voice one could compare both to silk and sandpaper. "Would you like me to walk you over there?" Deliliah shakes her head and turns around to pick up her bag.
Oh, right.
Suddenly a thought comes to mind and she looks down at herself, sighing with relief when she spots a neutral colored set of shirt and pants. She stands and begins to head towards the crowd. Delilah had never exactly been an easy-talker, she always found socializing to be a chore. But somehow, she doesn't believe that's going to be an issue this time.
She looks around at the space while she walks. There are no walls, no ceiling, no floor. But it's not outside. It's not dark, but there's almost nothing here except for the people and a few scattered seats. She has no way to confirm her theory, but somehow, Delilah knows this isn't the afterlife. It's some sort of waiting room, a kind of limbo between worlds.
When she reaches the group, a few people smile and nod her way but most are too busy lost in their own thoughts. Some people are hugging, joyous tears rolling down their cheeks. Perhaps they're partners, or siblings, or long lost friends brought together only now, in death.
Delilah spots a teen boy standing just slightly apart from the crowd. He has rich brown hair, a light tan and glasses and appears to be eyeing the spot Delilah just came in from, his brow furrowed and hands shaking.
Frowning, she turns around just in time to catch another teenage boy seemingly materialise by the unnamed figure. Perhaps he stepped through a portal, perhaps he was there all along but Delilah recognises him at once. It seems the other boy does too.
The figure puts a hand on the shoulder of the new boy and says something. The teen straightens up suddenly, hastily looking around.
And that's when he spots him.
He gives an excited shout and runs full force at the boy with glasses, who tears up instantly and runs to meet him. The two collide and embrace each other, crying and laughing. Delilah feels tears prick at her cheeks at this touching moment. The two boys kiss and hug and laugh and sob, she can see they're more than friends. She can also see how strong their bond is and knows no one could pull them apart from each other even if they wanted to.
There's an odd silence that falls over the space as everyone watches the two boys' reunion.
But then, a sudden applause breaks out in the group, everyone clapping and cheering for love. One young man whoops and fist pumps the air. The two teens wipe their eyes and laugh to each other, whispering something inaudible.
Maybe they're childhood best friends who found the courage to be something more than that.
Perhaps they're boyfriends who were separated by the unforgiving hands of death.
Or perhaps…
Maybe…
They only just met.