OK, this fic is a penalty. Long story short, this is one of my favourite episodes, and I failed to recognise the title. I'm not worthy.
Written for Maz, hope she thinks it'll do
I own nothing
--
I guess I was always scared of dying.
Deep down, no matter how much we protest, everyone scared, not of the dying part, but of the thought that, after all this, what if there's nothing? We've lived good lives, pure lives, and yet we still end up nowhere. Or worse, what if there's a hell, but no heaven?
I never used to think about these things. I was too busy living my life to think about what happens after. Having too much fun to think, is this it?
Dying didn't change that. I'm dead, and I'm still scared.
I might not have a body, but as I look into the rising sun, the only thought I can muster is, what now?
--
There might be a few more of these on the way, depending on how incompetent I am.
Ciao for now!
...
Did I REALLY type that? Oh dear Lord.