forbiddenfics

There was no big shock of "he's gone." He'd been ill for a long time, and slept a lot; his interactions with the rest of us had been very limited for a while. Most of the "he's gone" has been in tiny freedoms - Oh, I don't have to check in before I leave for the convention; don't have to come home in time to make diner. Don't have to make a second sandwich. I can leave the light on. Can play music downstairs. Can rearrange the chairs. Can hang up art I like on the wall.

(He would not have objected to my art on the wall; it's just that the wall space I'm using didn't exist before and involved moving a lot of furniture that needed to be where it was.)

The shock that hit was "it's not his phone; it's my phone; they're both my phone; I don't have to switch numbers to use 'his' phone."

( Because it's all my stuff now, isn't it. )