Alisaura
Blue Crack Supplier
Apologies for the brevity of this and the previous chapter... I could probably have mashed them together, but I've been rather preoccupied with panicking about tickets and preparing to go to Mexico tomorrow. I'll be gone for about 10 days, between time zones and date lines and travelling and jet lag and whatnot.
Anyway, thanks again for reading.
Hasta pronto! 
Disclaimer: As usual, is all bullsheet. No offence intended.
-----------
12 November, 1987 – Vancouver, BC, Canada
Edge had forgotten why they had this one date in Canada before going back to California the next day. Now, it seemed like a gift, an opportunity.
He hadn't got any sleep that night, pacing the room, indecisive now that the time had come. He had stayed human, tried to think carefully about his decision.
But it wasn't a thinking decision. It was instinct. The fact was, he had reached his limit. No more, no more.
Now that they were in Canada, the wolf part of him knew other wolves were within reach. The need to change, to find them and run with them, provided an additional impetus to his decision.
Edge went to breakfast, having packed up all his bags carefully and left them in his room. He had intended to tell the others, but at the last minute, he couldn't bring himself to do it. And really, he should have told them as soon as the decision was made, or as soon as he was aware of it having made itself.
Coward, his human mind whispered.
It was true, but he was running from that. The cowardice, and the human consciousness of it.
Edge went to each of them, Adam, Larry, and Bono, fighting down the wolf for this one last moment with his friends. He gave them a hug over their breakfasts. He didn't dare say anything else, hoping they realised he still cared. Larry had been uncomfortable, while Bono seemed hopeful that Edge had come back to his old self, somewhat. That had hurt, but he was running from the hurt, too. Adam had simply accepted the hug, as he accepted almost everything.
Having barely touched his breakfast, Edge left the dining room before anyone else. He hailed a taxi outside the hotel, and it took him north of the city, to Wadsley. From there, he began walking further north, following the steep road up into the hills towards the Cypress Provincial Park, and the wilderness beyond.
After a few miles, he sat down to rest. Fir trees covered the slope, punctuated by the occasional boulder. A stream trickled nearby. The air smelled fresh and alive, although cold; the world here was settling down for winter. Small birds twittered overhead, flitting from branch to branch, alarmed by the intruder.
Edge experienced a last, fleeting moment of doubt. He knew the others wouldn't understand, but the thought of going back, playing one more show, continuing to live that life, was more than he could stand. He needed to get away, far away, from everything. From himself. Even from his family. His biggest regret was that he would miss his children growing, but even that wasn't enough to change his mind and override the wolf.
Twenty-six years as a human being. He felt the weight of those years, like an undeniable imperative to let the balance fall back the other way. No doubts could withstand it.
For the last time, Edge removed his human garments, laying them in a neat pile on top of a large rock. He weighed them down with a smaller rock, and folded a note into his jacket. The hat went on top. Into a pocket went his watch and his wedding band, hanging from a chain he sometimes wore around his neck.
He laid a hand on the belongings of the life he was leaving behind. Feeling the fabric catch on the callouses on his fingers, earned through ten years of playing the guitar, with his friends.
Goodbye.
A few minutes later, a wolf trotted into the trees, free at last.
-----
Edge hadn't shown up to the sound-check, but that was nothing out of the ordinary, lately. Dallas performed the usual checks on the guitars, no longer concerned that Edge would find fault with something later. He had wondered aloud whether Edge would even notice if he left everything out of tune.
Bono's mood was good, buoyed by Edge's display of affection at breakfast. He thought it showed that Edge was 'coming back', becoming more human again.
"Where is he, then?" Adam had asked, when it became clear that Edge wasn't going to do the sound-check.
"It's not going to happen all at once," Bono had replied, as if he knew all about it.
Adam had made no reply. Edge's behaviour that morning had left him with a vague sense of foreboding, although he refused to think about why that might be.
Just as the sound-check was wrapping up, Jim the security guard approached them. He spoke to Bono, and Adam drifted over to listen.
"Jim says this Timothy character wants to talk to us," Bono told him. The security guard's face was set.
"I've seen him before," Jim said, "on the first leg of the tour. I thought we'd seen him off, then," he scowled. "He says it's about Edge, and he won't leave 'til he sees you."
Adam and Bono exchanged a look.
Timothy looked as ragged and smelled as bad as Edge had described him.
"Do you know where Edge is? Have you done something to him?" Bono wanted to know, utterly uncaring that Timothy was a far more experienced werewolf than Edge was.
"Ah ain't done nothin'," Timothy replied, equally unfazed by being yelled at by a rock star. "An' Ah dunno where he is, 'zactly. Taxi took him north this morning. Ah can take ya where he went after that."
"Why? He goes off all the time. He'll be back before the show," Bono said confidently.
Timothy just looked at him. "Y'all will wanna see this."
Bono's illusory confidence vanished. "Is he dead?" The singer's face was pale, and Adam found himself holding his breath.
"No, he ain't dead. Not as far as Ah know. Y'all jus' need t'see."
Against Jim's protests, they went with Timothy.
---
He led them, on foot, up the switchback road Edge had followed out of Wadsley that morning. There was the pile of his clothes on the rock, surmounted by his hat.
Larry picked the hat up, and saw the note peeking out of the jacket.
"I don't think he's comin' back."
"Ah coulda told ya that," Timothy said, standing off to one side.
"No one feckin' asked you!"
The three remaining members of U2 stood in a tight circle, and read the note Edge had left.
'I'm sorry. I love you all, but I can't live that life any more. I need this. Please tell my family I love them, too. Goodbye.'
That was all.
Edge had walked away from everything, and none of them could follow.
-----
Amid the disbelief, the anger, and the grief, decisions had to be made about that night's show. People were already queueing up, and discussion went back and forth about whether to cancel it or not.
"We played without him once, we can do it again," Adam pointed out.
"That was one show! We know he's not comin' back this time." Larry was furious about Edge's abandonment of them. "We can't ask Dallas to fill in for the rest of the tour, and we can't ask the audiences to..."
"Put up with a substitute," Dallas supplied.
Larry looked a trifle abashed. "That wasn't what I meant..."
"It's all right," the guitar tech said.
"This'll be the last show," Bono announced, having fallen silent some minutes before. "Our last show. If he's not coming back, the band is finished. It's too late to cancel this one, but I think we should refund people's money."
Larry and Adam considered, then muttered agreement.
"Can you play with us again, tonight, Dallas?" Bono looked at the guitar tech.
The blond man just nodded, still not quite believing that Edge had gone for good.
So once again, Edge's part was played by Dallas. Bono and the others privately thought that he did almost better than Edge had been playing recently, that last Denver show notwithstanding. There was certainly a lot more feeling in Dallas's performance than had characterised Edge's playing for the last couple of weeks.
Bono always got carried away during a show, even one like this. And as he often did, before the solo in Silver And Gold, he cried "Edge!" and threw the crowd's attention to his right.
Dallas winced, and did the best he could.
Bono realised his error, but turned it around. "Edge!" he called again. "EDGE! EEEEEEEDGE!!" Why, Edge? Where are you now?
Many miles away to the north, a lone wolf discovered the scent of his own kind. Heart filling with a joy that wasn't entirely lupine, he threw back his head and howled.
----------
***
Anyway, thanks again for reading.
Hasta pronto! Disclaimer: As usual, is all bullsheet. No offence intended.
-----------
12 November, 1987 – Vancouver, BC, Canada
Edge had forgotten why they had this one date in Canada before going back to California the next day. Now, it seemed like a gift, an opportunity.
He hadn't got any sleep that night, pacing the room, indecisive now that the time had come. He had stayed human, tried to think carefully about his decision.
But it wasn't a thinking decision. It was instinct. The fact was, he had reached his limit. No more, no more.
Now that they were in Canada, the wolf part of him knew other wolves were within reach. The need to change, to find them and run with them, provided an additional impetus to his decision.
Edge went to breakfast, having packed up all his bags carefully and left them in his room. He had intended to tell the others, but at the last minute, he couldn't bring himself to do it. And really, he should have told them as soon as the decision was made, or as soon as he was aware of it having made itself.
Coward, his human mind whispered.
It was true, but he was running from that. The cowardice, and the human consciousness of it.
Edge went to each of them, Adam, Larry, and Bono, fighting down the wolf for this one last moment with his friends. He gave them a hug over their breakfasts. He didn't dare say anything else, hoping they realised he still cared. Larry had been uncomfortable, while Bono seemed hopeful that Edge had come back to his old self, somewhat. That had hurt, but he was running from the hurt, too. Adam had simply accepted the hug, as he accepted almost everything.
Having barely touched his breakfast, Edge left the dining room before anyone else. He hailed a taxi outside the hotel, and it took him north of the city, to Wadsley. From there, he began walking further north, following the steep road up into the hills towards the Cypress Provincial Park, and the wilderness beyond.
After a few miles, he sat down to rest. Fir trees covered the slope, punctuated by the occasional boulder. A stream trickled nearby. The air smelled fresh and alive, although cold; the world here was settling down for winter. Small birds twittered overhead, flitting from branch to branch, alarmed by the intruder.
Edge experienced a last, fleeting moment of doubt. He knew the others wouldn't understand, but the thought of going back, playing one more show, continuing to live that life, was more than he could stand. He needed to get away, far away, from everything. From himself. Even from his family. His biggest regret was that he would miss his children growing, but even that wasn't enough to change his mind and override the wolf.
Twenty-six years as a human being. He felt the weight of those years, like an undeniable imperative to let the balance fall back the other way. No doubts could withstand it.
For the last time, Edge removed his human garments, laying them in a neat pile on top of a large rock. He weighed them down with a smaller rock, and folded a note into his jacket. The hat went on top. Into a pocket went his watch and his wedding band, hanging from a chain he sometimes wore around his neck.
He laid a hand on the belongings of the life he was leaving behind. Feeling the fabric catch on the callouses on his fingers, earned through ten years of playing the guitar, with his friends.
Goodbye.
A few minutes later, a wolf trotted into the trees, free at last.
-----
Edge hadn't shown up to the sound-check, but that was nothing out of the ordinary, lately. Dallas performed the usual checks on the guitars, no longer concerned that Edge would find fault with something later. He had wondered aloud whether Edge would even notice if he left everything out of tune.
Bono's mood was good, buoyed by Edge's display of affection at breakfast. He thought it showed that Edge was 'coming back', becoming more human again.
"Where is he, then?" Adam had asked, when it became clear that Edge wasn't going to do the sound-check.
"It's not going to happen all at once," Bono had replied, as if he knew all about it.
Adam had made no reply. Edge's behaviour that morning had left him with a vague sense of foreboding, although he refused to think about why that might be.
Just as the sound-check was wrapping up, Jim the security guard approached them. He spoke to Bono, and Adam drifted over to listen.
"Jim says this Timothy character wants to talk to us," Bono told him. The security guard's face was set.
"I've seen him before," Jim said, "on the first leg of the tour. I thought we'd seen him off, then," he scowled. "He says it's about Edge, and he won't leave 'til he sees you."
Adam and Bono exchanged a look.
Timothy looked as ragged and smelled as bad as Edge had described him.
"Do you know where Edge is? Have you done something to him?" Bono wanted to know, utterly uncaring that Timothy was a far more experienced werewolf than Edge was.
"Ah ain't done nothin'," Timothy replied, equally unfazed by being yelled at by a rock star. "An' Ah dunno where he is, 'zactly. Taxi took him north this morning. Ah can take ya where he went after that."
"Why? He goes off all the time. He'll be back before the show," Bono said confidently.
Timothy just looked at him. "Y'all will wanna see this."
Bono's illusory confidence vanished. "Is he dead?" The singer's face was pale, and Adam found himself holding his breath.
"No, he ain't dead. Not as far as Ah know. Y'all jus' need t'see."
Against Jim's protests, they went with Timothy.
---
He led them, on foot, up the switchback road Edge had followed out of Wadsley that morning. There was the pile of his clothes on the rock, surmounted by his hat.
Larry picked the hat up, and saw the note peeking out of the jacket.
"I don't think he's comin' back."
"Ah coulda told ya that," Timothy said, standing off to one side.
"No one feckin' asked you!"
The three remaining members of U2 stood in a tight circle, and read the note Edge had left.
'I'm sorry. I love you all, but I can't live that life any more. I need this. Please tell my family I love them, too. Goodbye.'
That was all.
Edge had walked away from everything, and none of them could follow.
-----
Amid the disbelief, the anger, and the grief, decisions had to be made about that night's show. People were already queueing up, and discussion went back and forth about whether to cancel it or not.
"We played without him once, we can do it again," Adam pointed out.
"That was one show! We know he's not comin' back this time." Larry was furious about Edge's abandonment of them. "We can't ask Dallas to fill in for the rest of the tour, and we can't ask the audiences to..."
"Put up with a substitute," Dallas supplied.
Larry looked a trifle abashed. "That wasn't what I meant..."
"It's all right," the guitar tech said.
"This'll be the last show," Bono announced, having fallen silent some minutes before. "Our last show. If he's not coming back, the band is finished. It's too late to cancel this one, but I think we should refund people's money."
Larry and Adam considered, then muttered agreement.
"Can you play with us again, tonight, Dallas?" Bono looked at the guitar tech.
The blond man just nodded, still not quite believing that Edge had gone for good.
So once again, Edge's part was played by Dallas. Bono and the others privately thought that he did almost better than Edge had been playing recently, that last Denver show notwithstanding. There was certainly a lot more feeling in Dallas's performance than had characterised Edge's playing for the last couple of weeks.
Bono always got carried away during a show, even one like this. And as he often did, before the solo in Silver And Gold, he cried "Edge!" and threw the crowd's attention to his right.
Dallas winced, and did the best he could.
Bono realised his error, but turned it around. "Edge!" he called again. "EDGE! EEEEEEEDGE!!" Why, Edge? Where are you now?
Many miles away to the north, a lone wolf discovered the scent of his own kind. Heart filling with a joy that wasn't entirely lupine, he threw back his head and howled.
----------
***
keep 'em coming.
