Author's Note: I know I have a number of projects in the work. However, I just couldn't get this scene out of my head. It's labeled prologue because I may decide to expand it. I may not. I happen to be a fan of Royal Pains and love Hank and Boris. I also noticed there are too few pieces with this pairing so I decided to give it a shot. Don't worry White Lilies Fans, A Taste of Heaven in Hell Fans, and Bottle Shock Fans. I will work on them! I have a new Chapter for White Lilies outlines, I'm writting it now.
Prologue:
Everyone has expectations, they are lofty ideas that we want to reach, yet somehow always fail. We reach out for the heavens and brush our fingers against the stars, only to realize we could never reach them, for they were too far for us to reach. The sound of waves caressing the shore filled the air and the smell of the salt filled the air. The sands which had been warm at one point were now glacial. The once endless blue sky was filled with dark blue with a hue of orange. The beach which had been filled with happy people and screaming children was deadly silent.
Standing alone, just a step away from the water was a rather small figure. He had broad shoulders that where hunched from fatigue. His dark blue dress shirt was wrinkled in the back and the collar of it had fallen flat. His head hung low, a knight who had his armor stripped away by those he desired to protect. Firm calves hidden under khaki pants were outlines in the glow of the ever so fading sun. Dark curly hair was ruffled by the wind.
It was all so quiet, alien and dark. Staring out at the waves as they rolled in was a pair of green eyes, they were glistening with un-shed tears. Gone was the warm smile, which curved his lips on a regular basis, it had been replaced with a somber expression. One that twisted his face in pain, "I just wanted to save you," he whispered, "All I wanted to do was save you."
Images of fire, and the sound echoed in his ears, the agony not of slamming his head into the mason work of the courtyard but that the man who had given him a second chance was not killed by disease but an explosive. His time had been stolen from him in a flash of light.
His eyes stung as large tears finally escaped them. They slid down his cheeks leaving trails in their wake, they were salty on his lips. He had watched one of the bravest and strongest men he knew die, a German Noble, who had given him a shot when no one else would. He could still see his blue eyes, those bright blue eyes which held more secrets than he could ever learn. The impeccably dressed, manicured and refined man he had met that night so many Summers ago, had vanished.
Shadow Pond was dead, lifeless without its enigmatic owner. A shell, who's heart had been carved out and thrown away. He couldn't even walk up to the massive door of the pearl white castle without breaking. He knew that thick German accent wouldn't greet his ears, and the formalities that it contained wouldn't come. "Boris," he whispered as he felt more tears slip away, "Why couldn't I save you? All I wanted to do Boris was to repay you for the wonderful life you gave me," he said softly. His shoulders shook.
It was silent, before the ring of a mobile split the air. Quickly the young man wiped the tears away and fished out his mobile. He swept his finger across the phone's screen and answered, "This is Hank."
"I'll be there."
Those words hung in the air as he hung up, he looked at the sea once again and whispered, "I'll be there, Boris, I'll always be here."
Footsteps in the sand followed the doctor as he picked up his duffel labeled HankMed and dashed up the beach.