Author's Note: I'm clearing out my fic folder and found this one written back in… January 2016, I think? A drabble I couldn't bring myself to delete, whether new canon supports it or not (which I've yet to find out, mind). I imagined this set some time after season 2, so it may or may not contain spoilers for season 3.
Eyes
"It's me, Coop."
The somber eyes hover on him, pleading in a way the voice has grown too gruff to allow.
Intuition tugs at Dale's heart.
And so he looks. Beyond lines and furrows, scars and heartbreaks of a life lived lacking, and longing. To the glint that shines through the years from infancy to old age like a pen light. That goes above and beneath and beyond the shape and shade of the eye itself, to the core.
Looks at Harry, like he knows Harry must look at him right now.
"Yes." Dale takes the offered hand. "It's you."
