The Dresden Files / Bob / #05. Spirit
Title: Shadow of Doubt
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Character: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 05. Spirit
Word Count: 613
Rating: G
Summary: Harry doubts his own eyes.
Notes: Spoilers for Things That Go Bump
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me; just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Bob stood motionless in a corner of the apartment's tiny kitchen, his expression carefully neutral as he observed Harry. The younger wizard had been sitting at the worn old Formica table for the better part of an hour, simply staring at the small framed photograph held between his hands. It was not the first time Bob had seen Harry mesmerized by the photograph, seeking the solace of nostalgic memories of a happier time.
"I still can't get my head around it," Harry said at last. Lifting his gaze, he looked at Bob over the top of the frame. "Was it real or some kind of illusion?"
"Your father's spirit."
"Yeah." Harry sighed. "I can't stop thinking about it. I mean, I saw him. You saw him. Even Murph-- …the dracoform saw him."
"Then why doubt what three pairs of eyes can attest to?"
"But was it him? We both know things aren't always what they appear to be. I've been fooled before. It could have been a trick." Harry's expression was forlorn; the orphaned eleven year old boy that still resided within his heart afraid to believe. "I wish I'd thought to use Sight on him." But even had there been time, the thought had never occurred to him.
"It was no trick."
"You can't be sure of that, Bob."
"I can. And I am."
Harry sat up a little straighter. "Could you feel-"
"No," said Bob apologetically. "I could not sense anything from the apparition that would have definitively identified him as your father. But it was apparent that he had some difficulty traversing the Darkness which implies a spirit from the brighter side of that Abyss."
"You said he was from the Darkness."
"At that moment in time, as far as I was concerned, he was. But then, I would have been suspicious of anything that came out of that morass while you were under siege."
A brief shadow of pain and anguish passed over Bob's pale features as he recalled his own terrifying experience within.
But Harry missed the expression; his attention focused once more on the photograph in his hands. It hadn't changed while he'd looked away. His father still smiled up at him from the past, his elegant magician's hands resting lightly upon the slender shoulders of his young son. A rare happy moment forever frozen in time.
"Okay, for argument's sake, let's say that it really was my dad."
"I did not realize that we were arguing," said Bob archly. "But yes; I believe it is safe to assume that."
"So I had him here. Right here, in my own house. My dad. For the first time since he dropped dead at my feet, I had him right here in front of me. Close enough to touch." Harry's fingers tightened on the picture frame. "I never had the chance to tell him … before. And there he was and there I was and I finally had that chance and … I never said it."
"That you love him."
"Yeah."
"And that you miss him."
"Pretty damned dumb, huh?"
"Not at all."
"What if he doesn't know, Bob?" Harry fiercely blinked back hot tears. "What if that was my last chance to tell Dad that I love him and I blew it?"
Bob's expression softened as he said gently, "He knows, Harry."
"You think so?"
"I feel certain of it," Bob assured him, answering the plea for reassurance. "Just as I am certain that he loves you no less, no matter the depth or breadth of the void that separates you."
Bob lowered his gaze to the photograph of father and son.
As do I.
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Character: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 05. Spirit
Word Count: 613
Rating: G
Summary: Harry doubts his own eyes.
Notes: Spoilers for Things That Go Bump
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me; just passing through.
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Bob stood motionless in a corner of the apartment's tiny kitchen, his expression carefully neutral as he observed Harry. The younger wizard had been sitting at the worn old Formica table for the better part of an hour, simply staring at the small framed photograph held between his hands. It was not the first time Bob had seen Harry mesmerized by the photograph, seeking the solace of nostalgic memories of a happier time.
"I still can't get my head around it," Harry said at last. Lifting his gaze, he looked at Bob over the top of the frame. "Was it real or some kind of illusion?"
"Your father's spirit."
"Yeah." Harry sighed. "I can't stop thinking about it. I mean, I saw him. You saw him. Even Murph-- …the dracoform saw him."
"Then why doubt what three pairs of eyes can attest to?"
"But was it him? We both know things aren't always what they appear to be. I've been fooled before. It could have been a trick." Harry's expression was forlorn; the orphaned eleven year old boy that still resided within his heart afraid to believe. "I wish I'd thought to use Sight on him." But even had there been time, the thought had never occurred to him.
"It was no trick."
"You can't be sure of that, Bob."
"I can. And I am."
Harry sat up a little straighter. "Could you feel-"
"No," said Bob apologetically. "I could not sense anything from the apparition that would have definitively identified him as your father. But it was apparent that he had some difficulty traversing the Darkness which implies a spirit from the brighter side of that Abyss."
"You said he was from the Darkness."
"At that moment in time, as far as I was concerned, he was. But then, I would have been suspicious of anything that came out of that morass while you were under siege."
A brief shadow of pain and anguish passed over Bob's pale features as he recalled his own terrifying experience within.
But Harry missed the expression; his attention focused once more on the photograph in his hands. It hadn't changed while he'd looked away. His father still smiled up at him from the past, his elegant magician's hands resting lightly upon the slender shoulders of his young son. A rare happy moment forever frozen in time.
"Okay, for argument's sake, let's say that it really was my dad."
"I did not realize that we were arguing," said Bob archly. "But yes; I believe it is safe to assume that."
"So I had him here. Right here, in my own house. My dad. For the first time since he dropped dead at my feet, I had him right here in front of me. Close enough to touch." Harry's fingers tightened on the picture frame. "I never had the chance to tell him … before. And there he was and there I was and I finally had that chance and … I never said it."
"That you love him."
"Yeah."
"And that you miss him."
"Pretty damned dumb, huh?"
"Not at all."
"What if he doesn't know, Bob?" Harry fiercely blinked back hot tears. "What if that was my last chance to tell Dad that I love him and I blew it?"
Bob's expression softened as he said gently, "He knows, Harry."
"You think so?"
"I feel certain of it," Bob assured him, answering the plea for reassurance. "Just as I am certain that he loves you no less, no matter the depth or breadth of the void that separates you."
Bob lowered his gaze to the photograph of father and son.
As do I.