They watch the skies side-by-side, like it used to be.
Did it? He supposes so, for he's remembering it now.
He lifts one hand, stretching it with his fingers splayed experimentally, reaching to the sky and trying for it so hard that he can almost feel it getting closer, only for it to shift away from him. He blinks oceanic blue eyes slowly, and again, and now they're drooping a bit, not out of tiredness but out of lazy contentment, and he feels his lips quirk up as his arm drops, perpendicular to his body. He almost hears the smirk beside him, and reaches to grasp what was once so familiar, now only a vague memory, but it evades him -- again. Or maybe not again, maybe this was the first time. It doesn't matter, and he contents himself to feel the amused gaze scanning him. He scrunches up his face and draws his arm back up, crooking it at the elbow so it was once again serving as a pillow to his head, sandwiched between it and the ground, fingers of both hands twined together. He gazes at the skies, with their strange glittering diamond fragments winking and none of them quite there, but still existing, and he can see them in the edges of his vision, but never quite can lock his gaze on them -- because when he looks, they're gone. And he has to wonder if they were really there to begin with, but when he looks away, to try to find another star (which also disappears), it reappears, laughing at him in a hyena's howling cries of humor. He does not appreciate the taunting, and his eyes return to their sharp state of focus as he frustratedly tries to grab onto something. There is no moon, only the stars and the black sky. He can feel the grass, and he knows the grass won't tease him like the stars, but he can't bring himself to look away, for fear that they disappear forever. Because then the memory would be gone, then he would lose it, and it would disappear, and he would never regain it -- like grasping at tendrils of smoke and fog, and evasive little breaths of wind that you know exist, but can't prove, for they're gone much too quickly to hold onto. Or perhaps like falling in the abyss of oblivion, groping in the darkness for solidity and reality, for a memory of what it was like --
What memory?
Oh. That's right.
This was what had happened...or perhaps not?
And they watch the skies side-by-side, like it used to be.
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Author's Note: An extremely...obscure drabble that I wrote quite a while ago. I edited it a bit, and you might be able to see where, as it might not flow quite as well in one or two places. Enjoy (I hope), and drop me a review. It's mostly a quick upload as an apology for any MND fans who might happen to check my profile or have me on Author Alert. XD So, sorry to you guys. I'll have the next chapter up ASAP.
...Reviewers are luff. No, really. ... I'll give you cookies...? Please...?