#YOU'RE TEARING ME APART LISA (reference)

[circusgoth-dotcom]

why is it so hard not to "erm actually ☝️🤓" when it comes to special interests/hyperfixations

[sissylittlefeather]

How the Web Was Woven: The End

A/N: This. This series is my Mona Lisa, my Sistine Chapel, and these final brush strokes literally tore me apart. I poured my soul into this one. If you hate it, please don't tell me. But if you love it, please do because this is my everything. I hope it's enough.

Need to catch up? Masterlist

Warnings: mentions of death, illness, reference to sex, I think that's all.

Word count: ~2.5k

Four and a half years. That's all you have left. It's not enough.

******

The years slip away with Elvis going back and forth every couple of months like he did before. The kids get older, you get older, and Elvis gets older too. Every time he leaves, it tears out another piece of your heart knowing it's getting closer and closer to the last time you'll see him. He's in good spirits every time he visits, but it's hard not to notice his body declining. Making a portal to send him home gets harder and harder, but he still maintains that he's fine. You both know he's not, but what is there to do about it?

And then, before you know it, it's July of 2027, or 1977 for him. John Jessie is 10, Erin Love is 7. Your babies have been replaced with kids and your youthful, vigorous husband is replaced with a man you know is past his prime. He doesn't know it, but you do. He has a little over a month left and you find yourself falling apart at the smallest things. He kisses the back of your hand while you all watch a movie together and you have to get up and go to the bathroom to weep. He sings in the shower and you lay in your bed and rock your body while the tears stream down your cheeks. You drive to dinner with him in the backseat of your minivan between the kids watching a movie on the little screen that comes down from the ceiling of the car and when he laughs you almost have to pull over to keep from crashing as you drive with teary eyes.

He stays with you for a full three weeks because you continue making excuses to keep him around. You need him to help with this or the kids have something going on that he should be there for. In reality, you can't bear the thought of saying goodbye. Because this time you know it's really going to be goodbye. And you can't tell him, so he'll treat it like any other parting. He'll kiss your cheek and say "until next time, honey" like he always does.

But you know there won't be a next time. And the knowing is eating you alive.

In early August, a summer thunderstorm rips through in the middle of the night. Elvis is still there, wrapped around you breathing softly as you lay awake trying not to cry. There's a sharp flash of lightning and not ten seconds later, a crash of thunder tears into the quiet night. You listen for opening doors and sure enough, in less than a minute Erin is in your room and on your bed.

"Daddy!" Elvis sits up and she snuggles into his warmth. He strokes her hair and shushes her gently.

"You're okay, baby girl. Daddy's got you."

John Jessie walks up to the bed cautiously.

"She okay? I just came to check on Erin-" There's another flash of lightning and John Jessie jumps. When the thunder crashes, he crawls into the bed next to you. He might be a big 10-year-old, but you're still his mama. The rain is coming down in torrential waves and you hear hail start to plunk against the windows.

You and Elvis sit with both kids in between you and the power flickers. Erin gasps and John Jessie pats her hand.

"It's okay, sister." Elvis kisses her hair.

"Your brother is right, sweetheart. Nothin' to worry about."

Just then, the power goes out fully.

"Daddy!"

"We're alright. Your mama will go get a candle to light." He looks to you in the dark and you grab your phone and turn the flashlight on. Then, you slide out of bed to find a candle and a lighter. It takes you a minute of fumbling around the house to get what you're looking for. When you make your way back down the hall to the bedroom you pause just outside the door and your heart stops.

He's singing.

In the twilight glow I see

Blue eyes crying in the rain

When we kissed goodbye and parted

I knew we'd never meet again

Love is like a dying ember

And only memories remain

And through the ages I'll remember

Blue eyes crying in the rain

Some day when we meet up yonder

We'll stroll, hand in hand again

In a land that knows no parting

Blue eyes crying in the rain

When he reaches the end of the song, you're on your knees on the floor in the hallway, tears soaking the front of your night shirt, biting your knuckle and trying not to hyperventilate.

How will you survive without him?

You won't. You can't.

The power flicks back on and you hear both kids cheer. You quickly try to pull yourself back together and as you do, you make a decision.

You're not sure how you'll pull it off, or if you even can, but your mind is made up to try.

You walk back into the room and get back in bed with a new determination.

"You okay, honey?" Elvis looks at you curiously. You smile brightly.

"Mhmm! Now, let's get these kids back in their own beds." He shakes his head.

"You're somethin' else, honey. Twenty years together and you still keep me on my toes." He leans over and kisses you softly and then you each take a kid back to their bedroom. When you come back together, you settle into his arms and relax. Tomorrow, you'll think of a plan.

******

The next day comes and goes and so does Elvis. While the kids are at school, you make love and open a portal. You give him the next rendezvous point for the fall, knowing you'll see him before then. As expected, he kisses you and says he'll see you next time. Before he leaves, though, you grab him one last time and pull him into a deep kiss. Memories of every one of your kisses over the last 20 years comes crashing into you and you shake as you hold him, not wanting to let go. You have your plan, but if it doesn't work out, you want your last kiss to be a real one.

"Honey, do you want me to stay?" The portal shimmers behind him.

"Yes. But I know you can't."

"I don't have to go right now. We can make another one later." You look into his eyes, the same eyes that met yours in fear when he first appeared in 2007.

"No. If you don't go now, I'll never let you go."

"Honey, are you sure you're okay?" He doesn't want to leave you if there's something wrong.

"I'll be fine. Now go. I'll see you soon." He smiles softly and kisses your forehead.

"I love you with all of me, y/n. Always have and I always will."

"I love you too, Elvis." He squeezes you tightly one last time and then turns and walks through the portal. When it disappears, you sink to the floor. You have no more tears, so instead you pray. You pray for him, for his body and his soul. You pray for yourself and your kids. And you pray that your plan will work.

******

On August 15th, 1977, at 10:30 pm Elvis arrives at his dentist's office. It's a rather routine appointment, so he doesn't think too much of it. But when he gets back to the room and sees the shimmering portal, he's stunned.

This is not your agreed-upon meetup time or place. Somehow, he's alone in the room, but he knows he doesn't have much time before the dentist comes back. He decides there must be some urgent reason for you to show up here and a pang of worry hits him. Hopefully the kids are alright. The dentist knocks to let him know he's coming back in the room and Elvis takes a breath and walks through the portal, hoping he can get back without the dentist noticing.

"Honey, what the-" and then he sees you. Your eyes are wild and you're chewing on your thumbnail. It looks like you haven't slept in days, because you haven't, and your eyes are puffy and red with the remnants of your last crying spell. He immediately walks to you and wraps his arms around you. "What happened? Is it the kids?"

You lean against him and take in his warmth. You're afraid to move or speak in case something you do upsets him and causes what you're trying to avoid.

"No, it's not the kids. They're fine."

"Then what is-"

"It's you."

"Me? What about me?" You back up and look into his face. How will you tell him?

"You- if..." You trail off, not sure what to say.

"Honey, you're scaring me. You better tell me what's going on right now."

"I have to tell you something. And I need you to trust me. And then you have to make a choice." Your heart is pounding in your chest. You've thought of this moment so many times in the past two weeks and now it's here. The decision to give him a choice was not an easy one, but you know him. Telling him what to do is never the right option.

"Y/n. What the hell are you talking about?"

You take a deep breath, close your eyes and pray silently. Then, you open your eyes and look at him standing in front of you.

"You're going to die tomorrow." It hangs in the air between you like some tangible thing.

"What?" He almost whispers it.

"If you go back, you will die tomorrow. You have to."

"What do you mean, I have to?"

"Because you already did. Look." You hold your phone up to him and show him on Google. Elvis Presley, January 8th, 1935-August 16th, 1977.

He backs away from you and covers his mouth in shock. He shakes his head.

"No. I don't believe it."

"Elvis, why would I lie to you about this?" He looks up at you with tears in his eyes. He searches yours for evidence that this is some kind of cruel trick, but all he finds is sincerity and desperation.

"You said I have to make a choice."

"Yes. If you stay, I can take you to a hospital and we can try to save your life. But you can never go back. You'll be stuck in this timeline forever."

"I'll never see Lisa Marie again."

"No."

"I'll never perform again."

"Not as Elvis Presley, no."

"Elvis Presley is dead."

"Yes. But you could live as John Burrows." He sits down in a chair against the wall.

"That's a hell of a choice, honey."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Maybe if I'm supposed to die..." You nod and turn away from him. Your shoulders quake as your body is wracked with sobs. You don't want to impact his decision, but you can't control the anguish you feel at the thought of losing him. "But maybe you were meant to save me."

You turn back to him, your face shiny with tears. He walks to you and wraps you in his arms like he has so many times before. He presses his forehead to yours and closes his eyes.

"Y/n, you've saved me a hundred times over. You've made my life worth living. Save me one last time."

"You're sure that's what you want?"

"Yes."

******

The dentist rushes out to Ginger in the waiting room.

"Where did he go?"

"Who?"

"Elvis! He's gone!" She stands up and they frantically search the office, the parking lot, and the grounds of the building, but Elvis is nowhere to be found. Ginger calls Vernon in a panic.

"He's gone?"

"Vernon, it's like he disappeared! I don't know what could've happened." Vernon is quiet for a bit.

"Come home. I'll explain everything."

Back at Graceland, Vernon holds a discreet meeting with all of the most important people in Elvis's life. The conversation that occurs has been kept secret forever.

"Elvis is dead. Or, at least, that's what we're going to tell everyone. In 1960, Elvis sat me down once and warned me that this might happen. He said that there was a distinct possibility that he might disappear and never come back. If he did, he made me promise to proceed as if he was dead."

"What if he comes back?" Ginger is hysterical.

"He won't. He assured me he would be gone for good. You know how he is. We have to do what he asked."

Vernon looks around the room carefully.

"Elvis Presley is dead." They all nod in agreement.

"May he rest in peace."

******

The hospital staff think you're crazy when you insist that your husband is going to have a heart attack. Still, they run some tests and detect a good number of things wrong with him. They admit him and are shocked when he does, in fact, have a heart attack. Luckily, because he was already in the hospital, they're able to catch it quickly and stop it from doing too much damage. Still, this begins a health journey that will last the rest of his life.

But that's the important part.

He lives.

The miracles of modern medicine keep him alive well into his 70s. He watches your kids grow up. He cheers louder than anyone at every graduation and cries like a baby when he walks Erin Love down the aisle at her wedding. He even plays with his grandchildren and watches them grow up. He never stops missing Lisa Marie, but he's so grateful for the opportunity to be the dad he always wanted to be for John Jessie and Erin.

The two of you have your fights, like any other married couple, usually about you trying to feed him a heart-healthy diet. At one point he throws a whole baking sheet of salmon into the backyard to prove a point. You want to be mad, so you put your hands on your hips, but when he turns around to face you, you both erupt into laughter. You solve a lot of your problems by laughing together.

And once he's healthier, you spend a lot of time in bed together. Your lovemaking is not nearly as athletic as it used to be, but it's satisfying and you keep things interesting in your own ways.

But one thing has changed. You notice it the first time you have sex after his heart attack. You roll onto your back next to him sweating and breathing heavily and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close.

"Shhh. Honey, listen."

"What?"

"It's gone." And then you notice. There's no buzzing sound, no shimmery air.

No portal.

He sings quietly.

At last I'm where you want me

Don't you know, that's where I want to be?

I've been round for the last time

Oh, girl, what can I do?

Oh the time the web was woven,

How I fell in love, fell in love with you...

******

The End

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Taglist:

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