A/N: So the other day, I got the request from Bralt for a certain song. Bralt asked me to do a fic for it, and I said that I would absolutely love to.
That song was 'In Color' by Jamey Johnson.
So without further ado: Black and White
There were papers strewn out all over the floor, wrinkled and creased, yellowed with age. Some were stacked on top of one another while other pieces of worn parchment lay by themselves, in full view for anyone to see. At the far end of the room, holding even more documents and writings, was an oak-and-brass chest, lid open.
Walking into the room and seeing his old papers scattered on the floor, Halt came very near to getting angry with the boy in the midst of them all. But when the old grizzled Ranger saw the care and caution with which the young man handled the documents, any anger that was there simply faded. Quietly, Halt knelt down and sat next to the brown-haired boy.
Without breaking a stride or showing any sort of surprise—along with being the diplomatic type, he had probably heard Halt come in—Daniel held up a yellowed piece of parchment for Halt's scrutiny, taking almost painful care as if the thing would turn to dust in his hands. It was a sketch from long ago, drawn by someone who was obviously a very capable artist. He asked, "Papa, what's this picture? It's not real clear. Both of these boys look so much alike." The young boy lifted a hand and pointed at part of the drawing. "Is that you there?"
Halt shook his head. "No, Danny, actually, the other is me," he said, pointing to the part he mentioned. "We did look alike—the other boy is my brother."
Danny looked at him, wide-eyed. "I didn't know you had a brother."
"Ferris," Halt said. "You never did get a chance to meet him."
"Will I?"
"No…no, you won't get to."
The nine-year-old was tactful like his mother, and didn't persist. Daniel pursed his lips. "Neither of you look very happy."
The Ranger took a closer look. "We don't, do we? Well, I suppose we really weren't happy. We were eleven there; it had been a hard year all around. Even we felt the burdens, which is saying something." He raised his eyebrows. "Even we couldn't act well enough to pull off genuine smiles."
Danny set down the picture, laying it gently onto the floor. To his right, Halt saw one that caught his eye. He reached over and picked it up, angling it for Danny to see. "This one was drawn back during the war. You have no idea how cold it was—you can almost see our breath, the way the guy drew this."
He pointed to the other man in the picture. "That was John McGee, a lieutenant in the same area as I. We didn't even notice that he was sketching us; we were just talking."
The drawing showed a man that looked to be in his late thirties, with an open face and guileless eyes. He was sitting back on his haunches, holding one booted foot in hand and talking animatedly. Beside him, Halt was caught, frozen in frame, in one of his rare smiles.
The old Ranger felt the corner of his mouth turn upward. "Johnny was a history instructor from Coledale who had gotten shipped here. He took to me immediately—for some reason, my absolutely welcoming demeanor didn't put him off." Daniel smiled at the joke.
Halt's own shadow of a smile was soon wiped away, and he got a distant look in his eyes. "He had my back right through the day we left."
"Is he doing fine now? …Well, since then?" Daniel asked sincerely.
"…I don't know," Halt said at length. "After the war, I never saw him again."
"Oh…well, I hope that he's doing good," the boy wished, genuinely compassionate.
"Me too."
They sat for a moment in silence before Danny reached over and picked up yet another picture. This one was relatively newer, without as much of the yellowing and fraying around the edges. The charcoal sketch showed a Spartan background, focusing more on the couple that took up the majority of the paper. "What about this one, Papa?"
Looking at the drawing, Halt sighed and gave a genuine smile. "This one is my favorite," he said. "This is me and your grandma in the summer sun, all dressed up the day we said our vows."
Danny's open face showed his awe. "This was your wedding day?"
He nodded. "Yes it was, Dan. You can't tell by this, but it was hot there. Those roses were red, and her eyes were blue. And just look at that smile—I was so proud." Daniel grinned and averted his gaze.
His expression changing suddenly, the boy gathered up the sketches at which they had just looked. There was a pondering look on his face. He set them out in order, studying them for a moment. Then, looking at Halt, Danny said, "There's something about them."
Halt started thinking about it, too. "Well, that's basically the shortened story of my life, right there in black and white."
Danny nodded, but said, "Yeah. But they all seem to have…something in common. Everyone looks…"
Raising an eyebrow, Halt offered, "Scared to death?" When Danny nodded sheepishly, the Ranger said, "A picture is worth a thousand words, but you can't see—" he tapped one of the drawings "—what all these different shades of gray keep covered.
Daniel nodded solemnly, and Halt felt a surge of affection for Will's son. Halt said, "You should have seen it in color."
Finis
A/N: Please review. It makes me happy! :)
