Entry tags:
TDIR: Reckoning
Fandom: The Dark is Rising
Main characters: Will, Bran
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Will/Bran
Contains: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: It's been forever and no time at all. For![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
20_est_relships.
"It's been a long time, Bran," a voice says, in the darkness. It's like waking up, but not quite. It's like being born, but not quite. Bran opens his eyes and finds Will right there, just like he last saw him, except those eyes are deeper and sadder than they ever were, and the unimaginable weight of years sits there. Will carries it: not easily, but he carries it.
"I only just -- " he says, starts to say, and then stops.
"Died?" Will says, very quietly. "Yes and no. You died thousands of years ago, Bran. For me. But... you're only being taken into the Light now."
"They said I couldn't come here," Bran says, numbly. He doesn't even know why he says it, who 'they' are. It comes out of him anyway, as much of a reflex as jerking your hand away from a hot thing.
"Yes, they did," Will says, squeezing Bran's hand. "Come on. I owe you some answers."
"Damn right you do," Bran says, letting Will pull him up, feeling more there every second. If when he woke he was halfway there, he's three quarters of the way here now. He feels -- alive. He remembers a hospital bed, a sense of drowning, drowning in his own body, and he remembers Will's eyes, his sad horrified eyes. He remembers the beep of a damn machine and the chatter of a nurse who spoke too brightly, trying to pretend the tragedy away. He remembers the soft, even tones of a doctor, dealing out truth in small measured doses. He remembers thinking no, no, Will can't deal with this --
He remembers knowing that Will could, and resenting it, almost. How can you live without me?
He looks at Will now, and knows it wasn't really living.
He remembers the times Will was alive. He remembers Will's skin against his, the way Will's hair would always fall in his eyes and he'd always push it back. He remembers tenderness, so sweet and strange to him.
He remembers the times Will left him alone, the months of waiting, the questions that he never asked.
"You can ask me anything now," Will says, softly. "And I'll answer. I promise."
"Is it over now?" he asks, still not knowing, yet, what 'it' is. And Will smiles.
"Yes," he says, and yes there's sadness, but there's also joy. So Bran smiles too, and follows Will, and opens his mouth to let the questions fall out at long last.
Main characters: Will, Bran
Referenced characters: N/a
Pairings: Will/Bran
Contains: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: It's been forever and no time at all. For
20_est_relships."It's been a long time, Bran," a voice says, in the darkness. It's like waking up, but not quite. It's like being born, but not quite. Bran opens his eyes and finds Will right there, just like he last saw him, except those eyes are deeper and sadder than they ever were, and the unimaginable weight of years sits there. Will carries it: not easily, but he carries it.
"I only just -- " he says, starts to say, and then stops.
"Died?" Will says, very quietly. "Yes and no. You died thousands of years ago, Bran. For me. But... you're only being taken into the Light now."
"They said I couldn't come here," Bran says, numbly. He doesn't even know why he says it, who 'they' are. It comes out of him anyway, as much of a reflex as jerking your hand away from a hot thing.
"Yes, they did," Will says, squeezing Bran's hand. "Come on. I owe you some answers."
"Damn right you do," Bran says, letting Will pull him up, feeling more there every second. If when he woke he was halfway there, he's three quarters of the way here now. He feels -- alive. He remembers a hospital bed, a sense of drowning, drowning in his own body, and he remembers Will's eyes, his sad horrified eyes. He remembers the beep of a damn machine and the chatter of a nurse who spoke too brightly, trying to pretend the tragedy away. He remembers the soft, even tones of a doctor, dealing out truth in small measured doses. He remembers thinking no, no, Will can't deal with this --
He remembers knowing that Will could, and resenting it, almost. How can you live without me?
He looks at Will now, and knows it wasn't really living.
He remembers the times Will was alive. He remembers Will's skin against his, the way Will's hair would always fall in his eyes and he'd always push it back. He remembers tenderness, so sweet and strange to him.
He remembers the times Will left him alone, the months of waiting, the questions that he never asked.
"You can ask me anything now," Will says, softly. "And I'll answer. I promise."
"Is it over now?" he asks, still not knowing, yet, what 'it' is. And Will smiles.
"Yes," he says, and yes there's sadness, but there's also joy. So Bran smiles too, and follows Will, and opens his mouth to let the questions fall out at long last.