Bonanza fic - Only One Left - #21
Fandom: Bonanza
Summary: He was the only one left. Joe reflects.
Disclaimer: David Dortort owns Bonanza and it's characters. God owns Lake Tahoe. I own nothing. I know, it's sad.
Warnings: You might want to have a couple of tissues handy.
Pairings: None, gen.
Words: 1,083
Notes: #21 on my Self Prompt Word list. Word is "August." Also written for a challenge on bonanzabrand.net. Other words that had to be in there are imposing, majestic, noble and dignified.
The Tahoe was beautiful.
Joe was mounted on Cochise as he surveyed the lake, even though he had done this so many times that he knew exactly what he would see. It was a calm night, the waves only lapping gently on the shores. The late August sunset echoed off the water, setting off a majestic purple hue. The trees that grew along the shore were old and strong; Pa would never allow anybody to cut that lumber. He had said in a moment of vulnerability that Marie had loved those trees and that she had taken Adam and Hoss under them for small picnics and games that would keep them occupied for hours and exhausted them into a peaceful afternoon nap. Adam had never said if he remembered such outings and Hoss had been rather young at that point.
If there was something that all four of them had had in common, it was their love for Lake Tahoe and the land that surrounded it. Pa had always taught him that if you take care of the land, it will take care of you. Adam and Hoss had taught him that too, just with their actions instead of their words. Joe had always known that both of them had loved the Ponderosa, and not only the land, but what it represented.
The Ponderosa represented them as a family. The four of them, together, living and working the land. The image had never died, not even when Adam had left to travel the world. It had taken years, but Joe had learned that Adam hadn’t been rejecting the Ponderosa or even the family; his brother had just been built to explore, to gain knowledge.
Everything he had ever learned had been taught to him by his family. They had always been there, teaching and coaching him along. They had loved him and supported him; it had taken a long time for Joe to realize that the depth of their love was something that he would never quite understand. And he had loved them back fiercely. He had fought for the land, for them, and he would continue fighting because he felt like that was all he had left.
Joe shook himself from his thoughts and nudged Cochise down the well-worn trail that led to the meadow where they all were. Once there, he dismounted and threw Cochise’s reins over a branch, even though he knew the horse wouldn’t go anywhere. He slid his hat from his head and held it loosely in his hand as he stared down at the five grave markers. They were all here.
He didn’t remember much about his mother. There were times when he was able to grasp a faded and loose memory, but his image of her had all faded; all the remained was a photograph in a locket. She had been beautiful. The prettiest woman he had ever seen. All his life, there had been a desire deep within him that he was going to make her proud. That when he finally got to heaven, the first thing that she would tell him was how proud of him she was. Pa thought she would be, it was one of the final things he had said. She would be proud of you, Joseph.
Pa had given everything he had to his sons. He had given all the love, all the wisdom, all the tears for his sons. He had loved the three of them with everything he had. Some had found his presence imposing, but Joe had always found it comforting and familiar. No matter what, his Pa had always come through for him.
For years, it had been difficult for Joe to get along with Adam. His brother had had a way of making him feel small and insignificant. College had changed Adam a lot, and when he had come home, he had gone from being the worshipped big brother to a dignified stranger. But something had changed after the accident at Montpelier Gorge; Adam had started to view him as an equal and not some child who needed to be led by the hand. After Adam had left, Joe had been angry at him for deserting the family; a conversation after being held at gun-point by a drifter always came back to haunt him. But Joe had come to realize that Adam had missed them as much as they had missed him. And he had never really come home; his body had been buried at sea, only a white cross next to Pa’s and Hoss’s to remember him by.
When Hoss had died, Joe honestly had never thought he or Pa would survive. The days following were dark and hollow, Pa locked in his rooms for days and Joe just traveling the trails on the Ponderosa for hours every day until he exhausted himself enough to sleep. The funeral was just a hazy picture; his mind had still been stuck between denial and rage. The ranch began to fall to disarray, neither Pa nor Joe really caring one way or the other.
It was only because of Alice that he had been finally able to start healing. She had been there for him every step of the way, had been patient with him, had held him numerous times and just let him cry for the brother he had never thought of facing life without. It wasn’t until he had come upon her weeping at Hoss’s grave that he remembered that Alice had loved him too. They hadn’t even been married yet, but Hoss had already welcome Alice into the family and had loved her in his own noble and gentle way. He made a resolution that day to be strong for Alice. The wedding day had been bittersweet, but the moment she had appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in her beautiful dress, all other thoughts had fled.
And his world shattered again when he had held Alice’s lifeless body in his arms after a cruel and needless act of hate.
They were all gone, everyone he had ever loved. But he held a part of each one with him every day. He had his mother’s locket, Alice’s beautiful smile, the Ponderosa, his father’s legacy passed on to him, Adam’s sage advice and Hoss’s simple wisdom. It was a small token from each of them, and he had learned to grasp those things until that day when he would see them all again.
Summary: He was the only one left. Joe reflects.
Disclaimer: David Dortort owns Bonanza and it's characters. God owns Lake Tahoe. I own nothing. I know, it's sad.
Warnings: You might want to have a couple of tissues handy.
Pairings: None, gen.
Words: 1,083
Notes: #21 on my Self Prompt Word list. Word is "August." Also written for a challenge on bonanzabrand.net. Other words that had to be in there are imposing, majestic, noble and dignified.
The Tahoe was beautiful.
Joe was mounted on Cochise as he surveyed the lake, even though he had done this so many times that he knew exactly what he would see. It was a calm night, the waves only lapping gently on the shores. The late August sunset echoed off the water, setting off a majestic purple hue. The trees that grew along the shore were old and strong; Pa would never allow anybody to cut that lumber. He had said in a moment of vulnerability that Marie had loved those trees and that she had taken Adam and Hoss under them for small picnics and games that would keep them occupied for hours and exhausted them into a peaceful afternoon nap. Adam had never said if he remembered such outings and Hoss had been rather young at that point.
If there was something that all four of them had had in common, it was their love for Lake Tahoe and the land that surrounded it. Pa had always taught him that if you take care of the land, it will take care of you. Adam and Hoss had taught him that too, just with their actions instead of their words. Joe had always known that both of them had loved the Ponderosa, and not only the land, but what it represented.
The Ponderosa represented them as a family. The four of them, together, living and working the land. The image had never died, not even when Adam had left to travel the world. It had taken years, but Joe had learned that Adam hadn’t been rejecting the Ponderosa or even the family; his brother had just been built to explore, to gain knowledge.
Everything he had ever learned had been taught to him by his family. They had always been there, teaching and coaching him along. They had loved him and supported him; it had taken a long time for Joe to realize that the depth of their love was something that he would never quite understand. And he had loved them back fiercely. He had fought for the land, for them, and he would continue fighting because he felt like that was all he had left.
Joe shook himself from his thoughts and nudged Cochise down the well-worn trail that led to the meadow where they all were. Once there, he dismounted and threw Cochise’s reins over a branch, even though he knew the horse wouldn’t go anywhere. He slid his hat from his head and held it loosely in his hand as he stared down at the five grave markers. They were all here.
He didn’t remember much about his mother. There were times when he was able to grasp a faded and loose memory, but his image of her had all faded; all the remained was a photograph in a locket. She had been beautiful. The prettiest woman he had ever seen. All his life, there had been a desire deep within him that he was going to make her proud. That when he finally got to heaven, the first thing that she would tell him was how proud of him she was. Pa thought she would be, it was one of the final things he had said. She would be proud of you, Joseph.
Pa had given everything he had to his sons. He had given all the love, all the wisdom, all the tears for his sons. He had loved the three of them with everything he had. Some had found his presence imposing, but Joe had always found it comforting and familiar. No matter what, his Pa had always come through for him.
For years, it had been difficult for Joe to get along with Adam. His brother had had a way of making him feel small and insignificant. College had changed Adam a lot, and when he had come home, he had gone from being the worshipped big brother to a dignified stranger. But something had changed after the accident at Montpelier Gorge; Adam had started to view him as an equal and not some child who needed to be led by the hand. After Adam had left, Joe had been angry at him for deserting the family; a conversation after being held at gun-point by a drifter always came back to haunt him. But Joe had come to realize that Adam had missed them as much as they had missed him. And he had never really come home; his body had been buried at sea, only a white cross next to Pa’s and Hoss’s to remember him by.
When Hoss had died, Joe honestly had never thought he or Pa would survive. The days following were dark and hollow, Pa locked in his rooms for days and Joe just traveling the trails on the Ponderosa for hours every day until he exhausted himself enough to sleep. The funeral was just a hazy picture; his mind had still been stuck between denial and rage. The ranch began to fall to disarray, neither Pa nor Joe really caring one way or the other.
It was only because of Alice that he had been finally able to start healing. She had been there for him every step of the way, had been patient with him, had held him numerous times and just let him cry for the brother he had never thought of facing life without. It wasn’t until he had come upon her weeping at Hoss’s grave that he remembered that Alice had loved him too. They hadn’t even been married yet, but Hoss had already welcome Alice into the family and had loved her in his own noble and gentle way. He made a resolution that day to be strong for Alice. The wedding day had been bittersweet, but the moment she had appeared at the top of the stairs, dressed in her beautiful dress, all other thoughts had fled.
And his world shattered again when he had held Alice’s lifeless body in his arms after a cruel and needless act of hate.
They were all gone, everyone he had ever loved. But he held a part of each one with him every day. He had his mother’s locket, Alice’s beautiful smile, the Ponderosa, his father’s legacy passed on to him, Adam’s sage advice and Hoss’s simple wisdom. It was a small token from each of them, and he had learned to grasp those things until that day when he would see them all again.