TLR: Fragments
Fandom: The Last Remnant
Main characters: David, Irina, Rush
Referenced characters: Emmy, Marina, John
Pairings: David/Rush
Contains: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Six months after, the world changes again.
Note: While I have marked this as Rush/David, it is not explicitly so.
Six months after -- after Rush, David wakes in the night, and does not weep. Something has changed, the world has changed, like -- he has no words for it. Like the platforms in the Sacred Lands, sliding into place, making a different whole. He feels it, deep in the sore and aching part of him, the empty space.
"Rush?" he asks of the night.
But of course, there is no reply.
---
"Did you feel it?" Emmy asks, before she even makes her salute. "Did you feel the change?"
"We'd better send for Irina," David says. He does not meet her eyes, not willing to see the fear and hope, not willing to let her see his own fear, his own hope.
---
"She's waiting for him."
John Sykes watches his wife watching their daughter, as she waits where Rush left her once before, and he sighs.
---
It takes time to come back, that's the problem. Rush put everything he was into that last desperate action -- giving of himself without stint, as he always did. It's a long way to come back, and it's so hard.
"Dave," he whispers, and, "Irina."
But he has no other words, not yet, and he doesn't know if his words could even reach them if he did.
---
In the end, David goes to Irina. "Is this the place he was talking about?" he asks. "When he left you until nightfall?"
"Yes," she says. Her hands are clenched in her lap. "I can feel him."
"What does he need of us?"
"Nothing," she says, and the tears streak her cheeks again. "We can't help him."
"We'll wait together," David says.
---
It's getting easier. He can feel them -- the aching empty place inside them, that only he can fill, the wrong that only he can make right. He remembers things better now: colours, and sounds, and the shapes of words.
---
They're asleep when he finds them. They're out there in the wood, just where he left Irina so long ago. Irina's head rests on David's shoulder. David looks older in sleep, not younger, for he does not forget his grief in sleep. Not yet.
"Time to get up," Rush says, brightly, even though the sun is only just brightening the sky. Irina wakes, flings herself into his arms with an inarticulate cry. He holds her close, lets her bury her face in his shoulder. "Hey, hey," he says, "it's okay. I told you I'd come back for you, right?"
"Rush," David says, slowly getting to his feet.
"Dave," Rush says, and he remembers, just this moment, how to smile -- the last thing taken from him, the last thing restored. And the empty space is filled.
This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth. I would prefer people to comment and subscribe to me there, if you already have an account; I'll happily share Dreamwidth invites, if you want to make an account. Comments aren't disabled here on LJ, though.
Main characters: David, Irina, Rush
Referenced characters: Emmy, Marina, John
Pairings: David/Rush
Contains: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Six months after, the world changes again.
Note: While I have marked this as Rush/David, it is not explicitly so.
Six months after -- after Rush, David wakes in the night, and does not weep. Something has changed, the world has changed, like -- he has no words for it. Like the platforms in the Sacred Lands, sliding into place, making a different whole. He feels it, deep in the sore and aching part of him, the empty space.
"Rush?" he asks of the night.
But of course, there is no reply.
---
"Did you feel it?" Emmy asks, before she even makes her salute. "Did you feel the change?"
"We'd better send for Irina," David says. He does not meet her eyes, not willing to see the fear and hope, not willing to let her see his own fear, his own hope.
---
"She's waiting for him."
John Sykes watches his wife watching their daughter, as she waits where Rush left her once before, and he sighs.
---
It takes time to come back, that's the problem. Rush put everything he was into that last desperate action -- giving of himself without stint, as he always did. It's a long way to come back, and it's so hard.
"Dave," he whispers, and, "Irina."
But he has no other words, not yet, and he doesn't know if his words could even reach them if he did.
---
In the end, David goes to Irina. "Is this the place he was talking about?" he asks. "When he left you until nightfall?"
"Yes," she says. Her hands are clenched in her lap. "I can feel him."
"What does he need of us?"
"Nothing," she says, and the tears streak her cheeks again. "We can't help him."
"We'll wait together," David says.
---
It's getting easier. He can feel them -- the aching empty place inside them, that only he can fill, the wrong that only he can make right. He remembers things better now: colours, and sounds, and the shapes of words.
---
They're asleep when he finds them. They're out there in the wood, just where he left Irina so long ago. Irina's head rests on David's shoulder. David looks older in sleep, not younger, for he does not forget his grief in sleep. Not yet.
"Time to get up," Rush says, brightly, even though the sun is only just brightening the sky. Irina wakes, flings herself into his arms with an inarticulate cry. He holds her close, lets her bury her face in his shoulder. "Hey, hey," he says, "it's okay. I told you I'd come back for you, right?"
"Rush," David says, slowly getting to his feet.
"Dave," Rush says, and he remembers, just this moment, how to smile -- the last thing taken from him, the last thing restored. And the empty space is filled.
This was originally posted here, on Dreamwidth. I would prefer people to comment and subscribe to me there, if you already have an account; I'll happily share Dreamwidth invites, if you want to make an account. Comments aren't disabled here on LJ, though.