Just a one-shot. Wrote while listening to 'Rose' one of Titanic's original soundtracks. You could try listening to it and reading this! Just a suggestion.

It was all very quiet. The electric fire flickered merrily, casting an orange hue on the walls and warming the room. Paintings of all shapes and sizes hung on the walls, alternately between family portraits and photos. The paintings were all beautifully done, most of them depicting a grassy meadow with large egg-shaped rocks with faces on them and tiny colourful Easter eggs with legs running about the place.

A bed was positioned in one corner of the room. An elderly woman lay in it, eyes shut and fast asleep. Her face was wrinkled just like any other old woman's, and her body was thin and weak. Yet she looked so peaceful, sleeping with a small smile on her face as sweet dreams embraced her in her sleep.

On the bedside table, a basket of colourful eggs had been placed. It was Easter Sunday, and the children had gone out on egg hunts as they did annually. Each of them knew Easter was a very special day for their great-grandmother and each had spared one of their most beautiful eggs for her. Their parents had told them all about the Easter Bunny and that he was a talented painter and had painted all their eggs. Of course, the older ones didn't believe it, but they did have fun on egg hunts as well. Often, the adults would be asked by the kids where they had gotten the story from, and the answer was always the same.

Sophie opened her eyes, awakened from her slumber. The only thing about her face which hadn't changed were her eyes, her emerald green eyes, which still sparkled with hope and laughter and the dreams of childhood. They held hints of sadness and grief in them, too, from deaths and losses as well as other mixed emotions from her myriad of experiences.

Sophie turned her head slightly, and noticed the basket of eggs. She smiled to herself. In her opinion, Easter was the best day in a whole year. Memories of egg hunts from her childhood came flooding back to her, as they had always done, for many years. Beyond the basket, her gaze fell upon the portrait of a tall and handsome young man whom she had known all her life. A small tear trickled down Sophie's wrinkled cheek as she remembered Jamie. The brother who had loved her all his life, made toys for both of them when they were younger as their mother, who was a single mother, could not afford luxurious toys, played with her, brought laughter and joy to her life. Her brother had lived to the ripe age of 98, before passing away peacefully in his sleep. Sophie would never forget that day. Her husband had died at a young age, and it was Jamie who had always been there for her and was like a father as well as an uncle to her children even though he had a family of his own. Sophie had outlived him and her own children, living to the age of 102, in a house with grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

The door creaked open. Sophie did not shift her gaze from the portrait, expecting it to be one of the kids. They had seen to her earlier, and told her all about their egg hunts before leaving her to rest. The room temperature seemed to plummet all of a sudden. As Sophie went on staring at Jamie's portrait, wondering how long it will be before she saw him again, when five figures appeared by her bedside. Sophie blinked once, unable to believe her eyes.

"Sophie?" said a voice, softly, a voice she only knew too well. Her face lit up several watts as she realised who it was, her smile spreading.

"Bunny? Guardians?"

There was a sharp intake of breath. "She can still see us?" gasped a female voice, who had to be none other than the Tooth Fairy. Sophie nodded slowly.

"Jamie never stopped believing. I didn't, either," she said. Bunny came closer to her and held her face in his paws and gazed into those emerald eyes. She sighed. "I have changed, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have changed, but only physically," Bunny replied. His eyes were glossy, as he looked upon the ankle-biter he had adored for so long. "But you're still the same Sophie I know since a whole century ago."

Sophie couldn't help but feel nostalgic. "It has been a whole century, and I can still remember the feeling of riding on your back and lying on a hoard of tiny eggs with legs."

The elderly lady noticed that Jack Frost, the winter spirit, was gazing at Jamie's portrait just as she had done. She understood how he must feel; Jamie was his first believer. But...

"Death is inevitable to every living being," Sophie said, to no one in particular. "Well, except you five and other ones of your kind, I guess."

"We're actually spirits, so I suppose it doesn't count," Jack said, turning away from the portrait and giving Sophie a small smile. He wiped tears away from his eyes. Somehow, his tears weren't affected by his low body temperature.

Sophie reached up and stroked the Pooka's soft fur. She had almost forgotten how it felt like, despite him having visited her several months before. She could see that he was tearing up, for he knew quite well what she meant by her statement; she was already 102 and her time was almost up. "There's no need to cry," she said, calmly. Her old and worn hand never left Bunny's paw, and vice versa. Bunny reached down to hug her and cradled her old fragile body in his arms. Sophie's eyes closed; she felt contented.

"I'll always believe," Sophie said. It was almost like a whisper.

"Happy Easter, ya little ankle biter."

A smile crept onto Sophie's face as she heard those words. She drifted off to sleep. And sleep, she did. Bunny burst into tears as he felt Sophie's weak grip on his paw loosened and fell to her side. He turned to Sandy, desperately. But the Sandman merely shook his head sadly.

...

There was not a single dry eye. The grave of Sophie Bennett was almost covered with bouquets and wreaths of flowers from her family members and friends. And of course, childhood Guardians, who were present at the funeral, but could only be seen by the children. Sophie had been buried in between Jamie and her husband. Everlasting bluebells grew around the grave, Bunnymund's final gift to his little ankle-biter.

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