Icon Meme from penknife, selenak, st_aurafina, and a bunch of folk . Pairing # 1
Go to your icons page in Livejournal and look at the first two icons (the one on the right and the one on the left). Pair up the characters in the two icons. Go to the next two and do the same until you have a list of ships. Then...well, write 'em.
It was when he saw the spectre again out on the road, near the Kent house, conjured by memory, grief and longing, that Clark finally understood. Steve was drawn to crowds, to warmth. It was July, and why wouldn’t those things be in Arlington, where he was buried? Ice glistened on his dress uniform, and there was frost in his hair.
“Where the hell did he put you?” Clark said.
“He thought it was what I would want” The-ghost-of-Steve said.
“Where are you, Steve?”
“It’s cold,” the ghost said. That was all he could manage, apparently, because he disappeared, back to whatever netherland he was trapped in.
Clark took Shelby back to the house. Then he sped across the globe, looking in forsaken, frozen wastelands for the coffin of a man who should have been buried with his brothers-in-arms in Arlington.
He found it in the depths of the Artic ocean. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but then, who would have thought they would add injury to insult? He cradled it gently in his arms then flew to Arlington. He buried deep in a grave, unmarked but unforgotten, away from the memorial that stood over the other graves. A quiet space out in the sun and rain.
The next time Clark and Shelby saw Steve, his face was damp, upturned towards the sky. Shelby whined and ran to him to lick his hand.
“I forgot how good the sky could feel,” was all Steve said. And he was gone.
ETA: I erm...may have unintentionally cheated a little. Steve and Clark were right next to each other when I wrote this, because Steve was my default. Then I switched and it was Sam and Clark. Can I claim amnesty?
It was when he saw the spectre again out on the road, near the Kent house, conjured by memory, grief and longing, that Clark finally understood. Steve was drawn to crowds, to warmth. It was July, and why wouldn’t those things be in Arlington, where he was buried? Ice glistened on his dress uniform, and there was frost in his hair.
“Where the hell did he put you?” Clark said.
“He thought it was what I would want” The-ghost-of-Steve said.
“Where are you, Steve?”
“It’s cold,” the ghost said. That was all he could manage, apparently, because he disappeared, back to whatever netherland he was trapped in.
Clark took Shelby back to the house. Then he sped across the globe, looking in forsaken, frozen wastelands for the coffin of a man who should have been buried with his brothers-in-arms in Arlington.
He found it in the depths of the Artic ocean. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but then, who would have thought they would add injury to insult? He cradled it gently in his arms then flew to Arlington. He buried deep in a grave, unmarked but unforgotten, away from the memorial that stood over the other graves. A quiet space out in the sun and rain.
The next time Clark and Shelby saw Steve, his face was damp, upturned towards the sky. Shelby whined and ran to him to lick his hand.
“I forgot how good the sky could feel,” was all Steve said. And he was gone.
ETA: I erm...may have unintentionally cheated a little. Steve and Clark were right next to each other when I wrote this, because Steve was my default. Then I switched and it was Sam and Clark. Can I claim amnesty?