fic: Tower of Strength [PG-15] p 9/14
Title: Tower of Strength
Author: A Lanart
Characters: Richie Ryan & Siannon O'Niall (OFC)
Rating: PG-15 (UK). (Probably an R in the US)
Warnings: Swearing, Angst and possibly disturbing subject matter.
Spoilers: Highlander seasons 1-3
Disclaimer: Davis/Panzer productions own the Highlander universe
Concepts and characters used without permission.
Original characters and ideas are Mine, so is the story.
No profit is being made off this by anyone, especially me!
Title courtesy of the Mission, from the song of the same name,
Summary: Richie's back in Seacouver after the events in 'Testimony', where he meets an *old* friend.
Part 9
They held each other's hands, for mutual comfort and support, as they walked through the doors of the hospital for the second time in as many days. Richie was pleased to see it was not the same person at the reception desk as on that fateful night. The young man, about his own age Richie guessed, was helpful and polite.
"We'd like to speak to Dr. Ellis, please. She's expecting us." The receptionist glanced at a list in front of him.
"Miss O'Niall and Mr. Ryan?"
"That's right."
"I'll be right with you." He got out of his chair and called into the office. "Take over for me, Liz, and page Karen Ellis, please. I won't be long." He emerged from behind the desk and smiled briefly at Richie and Siannon. "If you'll just follow me, Dr. Ellis will be with you soon."
They were left in a room that was much more comfortable than the one that Richie had found Siannon in two days before. They had barely sat down, when Dr. Ellis entered, accompanied by an unknown man, who she introduced as the area transplant co-ordinator. She then began to explain, in her soft, compassionate voice, exactly what was involved and what was expected of them in the situation. Finally, all the paperwork was sorted out and the man left, leaving them with Dr. Ellis.
"Do you want to see Laurie before we take him to theatre?" She asked. Siannon and
Richie glanced at each other with tear filled eyes and simultaneously shook their heads.
"No, thank you. We said our goodbyes two days ago. I'd rather leave it at that." Siannon said. "Doctor..."
"Karen, please."
"..Karen. I'd like to thank you for being so kind over the last two days. You've made a very difficult time much easier to deal with. I think I speak for Richie as well, here." He nodded in agreement.
"It's the least I could do. Losing someone is a very painful experience at the best of times, and in a situation like this it can be so much worse. I'm glad I've been able to help, even a small amount. Goodbye." She shook their hands before leaving them alone in the room once more. Richie immediately pulled her close and held her tight.
"Siannon, I'm so proud of you. There’re so few people who could stand there and do what you've just done. That you have, and with such generosity, is unbelievable." She gave him a sad smile.
"Is it really? The way I see it I had no option. Let's get out of here. I need a drink."
"Siannon..."
"Just one, don't worry. You're driving anyway, remember."
They found themselves back in Joe's, unsurprisingly. They ensconced themselves at the bar, Richie with orange juice, Siannon with a Guinness. Joe watched them both with concern for a little while before saying anything.
"Any news?" Siannon looked at Richie with a helpless expression in her green eyes, wordlessly begging him to explain. He looked at Joe, shaking his head.
"We lost him. There's nothing anyone can do for Laurie now..."
"Except help with his funeral. Would you, Joe, please?" Joe stared at her drawn face, and felt his heart go out to the ancient but inarguably human woman before him.
"I'd be honoured, Laurie meant a lot to me, too."
The service took place in a small chapel near Joe's, one of those occasional gems of inner city architecture that very few people seem to know about. Everything was simple and heartfelt, from the single red rose and the wooden flute on the coffin, to the music that was provided by the folk group that had played at Joe's. The only relatives of Laurie's there were the elderly Canadian couple that he had visited scant months before, though the chapel was almost full. There were brief, but moving, words spoken by Joe, Richie and Laurie's great-aunt, and many a person shed a tear or two. Towards the end of the service, Siannon rose, moving to the front of the chapel. She stood beside the coffin, resting a gentle hand on the wooden surface.
"I want to thank you all for coming. I know Laurie never believed quite how well liked he was; I think he knows now, if he's watching." She paused, glancing at her hand on the coffin before continuing, her voice softer, and her brogue more apparent. "If you're listening, Acushlah, this is for you..." She softly began to sing, accompanied by the quiet drone of uillean pipes.
"My young love said to me
'My mother won't mind
And my father won't slight you
for your lack of kind.'
And he laid his hand on me
And this he did say
'It will not be long now 'til our Wedding day'.
And he went away from me
And he moved through the fair
And fondly I watched him move here and move there.
And then he went onwards
Just one star awake
Like the swan in the evening
Moves over the lake.
Last night he came to me
My dead love came in
So softly he came that his feet made no din
And he laid his hand on me
And this he did say
'It will not be long now 'til our Wedding Day'."
As the last fading notes dropped into the well of rapt silence, there was not a dry eye in the whole chapel, even the attending minister surreptitiously wiped a tear away. Siannon smiled gently through the tears that had started to fall and kissed her fingers before pressing them onto the coffin.
"Goodbye, Laurie. I love you." She went back to her place beside Richie and Joe, completely oblivious to the rest of the service, wrapped in her own shroud of silence.
It was not until they had reached Joe's that she actually broke the silence.
"Thank you," she murmured, reaching for Richie's hand. He breathed a sigh of relief, sharing a thankful glance with Joe. He'd been worried when she seemed to withdraw from those around her, concerned that her rigid self control was about to snap. She released Richie's hand, grabbing Joe's instead. "I mean it. I couldn't have done this without either of you." Joe smiled gravely at her.
"It was the least we could do."
"Joe..." She buried her head in his shoulder as he held her gently while she cried. When she straightened, he let his arms fall. She patted his shoulder. "You have very nice shoulders, Joe. Thanks."
"I bet you say that to all the guys."
"Nah, just Richie. I'm going to repair the damage, I'll be back out in a minute." She disappeared to the bathroom, Joe and Richie both watching her retreating back.
"I can't help wondering how she's going to manage now the funeral's over. Sometimes I think that focusing on that is all that's held her together for the last few days, she said that once everything sunk in she'd probably lose it. So far I've seen no sign of that and I don't know whether to be relieved or worried."
"She still staying at your place?"
"For now. Mac said it was okay for her to use the loft if she wanted to and I think she's going to move over there the end of this week. I hope she'll be all right."
"I'm sure she will, especially with us both keeping an eye on her."
"You know, I never expected the thought of Watchers to be so comforting."
"So I'm good for something after all?"
"Apart from free advice, company, music and beer? Yeah, I suppose you are."