Disclaimer: The characters depicted are the property of their respective owners who are not me.
A/N: All futures are possible. The universe offers limitless options. Here are some of them. Only a slight cross over.
This is just a bit of frivolity to get through the crippling writers block, so that I can finish The Promise.
The idea arrived after reading “A Ballad Of Burdens” by Algernon Charles Swinburne
This story is un-beta-ed, please forgive it its many faults.
Reviews are manna.
- Eighteen Years Ago -
He knew he would die. Wasn’t surprising, what with the gaping whole in his body. He heard them coming. Too late as usual.
He didn’t want to die alone.
“Hang on Shepherd.”
There was no point, but he knew better that to say otherwise.
Time slowed. Looking into Mal’s eyes, he prayed that the man would allow himself happiness. He had so much to say, but words would not form. Protect each other. Love. Be truthful. And maybe you can save yourselves. And maybe your souls too. Don’t forget to love. There’s nothing stronger in the ‘verse. Forgive each other. Live. Words did not form.
He didn’t like this, this dying. Too mundane, too real. Ferry me home, Lord.
But even now the lord was taking his time. Book had time. Didn’t he?
So much to say, to impart, to ask forgiveness for, but breathing was too hard. Thought was impossible.
Perhaps if he had more time he could explain how they had made his life somehow…more. Or tell them that they were strong and would survive. That regimes ended, and new ones begun, it was the cycle of the world. Or that he prayed for them. But words would not come.
For all the ills and wrongs and hurts of his life the last thought that faded from his mind was that life always seems staggeringly beautiful at the end.
This is the end of every man’s desire.