vanillalime

Title: Paradise! Part 3: Is This the Real Life? Is This Just Fantasy?
Pairing: Beecher/Keller
Rating: PG
Length: 1,048 words
Prompt: Unable to handle the deaths of so many loved ones, Toby can no longer distinguish between reality and his dreams.
Summary: Deserted on a tropical island for many years, Toby struggles with his sanity.
Notes: This is a sequel to the double drabble "Paradise!" posted here, and the story "Paradise! Part 2: A Hairy Situation" posted here. All three fics written for the Oz Prompt-A-Thon 2014. The story deviates slightly from the prompt as it was originally conceived, but since the prompt was mine, I figure that's okay. The title comes from the opening lyrics to "Bohemian Rhapsody" by Queen, written by Freddie Mercury.
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Toby sat down on the beach with a groan, close to the edge of the water. It had been another boring, uneventful day, but he was tired nonetheless. He seemed to have hurt his left arm while fishing earlier, and he rubbed at the tingling sensation. Once again, he was reminded of his age. Approximate age, anyway—he had lost track a long time of ago of the days, months, years.

He watched the waves as they gradually grew closer and absentmindedly toyed with the St. Dismas medal hanging around his neck.

He was so lonely.

He thought about visiting Chris and trying to talk to him, but it was getting harder to climb that hill, both literally and metaphorically. Despite numerous attempts, it had been quite a while since Chris had talked back.

Which was probably for the best, he sighed.

His mind wandered, once again, to the nightshade bushes that grew along the edge of the lagoon on the other side of the island. A handful of berries would be all that was necessary. Quick, and relatively painless. So easy.

Toby shook his head. No, he was stronger than that. That’s what Chris had taught him.

Instead, Toby lay down on the warm beach and dug his heels into the sand. He felt the waves come up and tickle his toes before pulling away again. Eventually, they covered his feet, then his ankles, moving their way up his legs. If he used his imagination, he could pretend that the waves, rushing in and out, were the live fingers of a loved one touching him, Chris caressing him, Mother Nature comforting him, God Himself reaching out to guide him….

Toby opened his eyes and sat up with a jolt. He must have fallen asleep. The sun hung low in the sky now; it was time to head back toward the cave. But this was his favorite time of day, and as he collected his thoughts, he felt compelled to just sit and watch the sun go down.

Toby waited, and he waited. He began wondering why tonight’s sunset was taking so long when movement at the far end of the beach caught his eye. Even at a distance, with the shadows dancing and daring to play tricks on his eyes, he could tell that a figure was walking toward him. And that figure was undoubtedly Chris.

This was a surprise, to say the least, but Toby was more curious than alarmed. That curiosity grew greater still as Chris drew closer, and Toby realized that he was wearing khaki pants. Chris rarely wore clothes of any kind, and certainly not khakis. Toby put his head down and slowly rubbed his eyes, but when he looked up, Chris was still there. He came to a stop next to Toby and looked down on him with a smile. Then he sat down in the sand next to him, facing the water, and draped his arm across his shoulders. He gave Toby a quick hug, just like he always used to do.

At a loss for what to say, Toby blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

"Nice pants," he snarked. "When did you decide to take up sewing?"

Chris threw his head back and laughed as if Toby had just told the funniest joke in the world. Composing himself, he replied, "I like havin' all the pockets. They come in handy."

Somehow, that answer made a lot of sense.

Chris calmly kept grinning, but didn’t say anything else. Toby wasn’t exactly sure what he expected from Chris, but he found his tranquility appealing.

Finally, Toby inquired, "Why are you here?"

Chris shrugged his shoulders. "God chose me," he replied.

Toby sat there, pondering that. Pieces were slowly falling into place, but he didn’t trust his brain to see the picture correctly.

Chris slowly turned toward Toby. Looking directly into his eyes, Chris elaborated, "Turns out, I was right. God really doesn’t have the balls to keep us out."

Toby wanted to make sure he understood. "You and me, together?" he asked.

Chris nodded his head. "It’s wonderful, Toby. It’s just like the song says: And, in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make." Chris chuckled before he continued. "And, God knows, we made a lotta love," he said with a wink.

Toby couldn’t help but roll his eyes. "You’ve been planning that line for a while, haven’t you?"

"Yeah," Chris admitted. "Since Day One, pretty much, when I learned how everything works."

Chris then stood up and held out his hand. "Come on, Toby," he said gently. "Come with me."

Toby reached out and clasped Chris's hand. When he was on his feet, he noticed his corporeal form still lying on the beach. He stood silently and hesitated, looking at it for several moments, thinking. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples before finally turning back toward Chris.

Softly, Toby asked him, "Is this really happening?" He looked down at his feet in the sand before continuing. "I'm so weak sometimes," he whispered. "I get confused, and things aren't what they appear to be."

Chris reached out and cradled Toby's head in his hands. He lifted it up, forcing Toby to look at him.

"No, Toby, you've been so strong," he insisted. "Stronger than I would've been. You've never understood just how much I needed you, how I could never let go of you."

Chris reached into one of his pockets and pulled something out of it. He placed the object in Toby's hand and asked, "Would I still be carrying that around, if this was all just your imagination?"

Toby looked down and saw a braided lock of his hair—the same lock that he had cut off and placed in Chris's hand when he buried him. He felt his trepidation and concerns fade away, replaced by contentment and peace. He handed the braid back to Chris with a smile.

Chris returned the smile and gently fingered the hair before stuffing it back in his pocket. "We should get going," he said. "There's a lot of people who've been looking forward to seeing you again."

Together, they started walking down the beach, and Toby watched the sun finally set.
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* The couplet quoted by Chris is from the song "The End" by The Beatles, written by Paul McCartney. I've always been fascinated by the philosophy behind those words, and it seemed appropriate for Chris and Toby's situation.

Cross-posted here to the