Halt remembered the day he first met the vivid, red-haired man in the inn. The way he had gotten angry at the soldiers for harassing the young woman and had almost had his nose cut off.
Halt remembered traveling with him and seeing how honest and genuine Crowley was. He was everything Halt had never really known before.
Halt remembered seeing how much the Ranger Corps meant to Crowley, how he was willing to give up everything to save it. He remembered the moment he made the decision to turn around and rejoin Crowley. He still wasn't entirely sure why, only that he had felt drawn to the man.
He remembered watching Crowley gather up members of the corps, not giving up while dealing with the more difficult members. Halt remembered seeing how surprised Crowley was when he was declared the commandment.
Halt remembered grieving with Crowley over Pritchard.
Halt remembered Crowley's undying amusement at his devotion to his apprentices. He remembered him getting angry over Halt leaving the Ranger Corps to find Will.
He remembered him hating paperwork with every fiber of his being, but doing it faithfully anyway.
He remembered his endless teasing and sarcasm.
Halt remembered watching him face everything with the same unwavering determination.
But most of all, Halt remembered Crowley's smile and laugh. He remembered how he smiled at everyone, especially children. He had always wanted children, hadn't he? He liked to joke that the rangers were his children.
He remembered how he smiled at the rangers and assured them they could take on nearly impossible tasks. He remembered how Crowley spread hope among them no matter how he felt himself.
His smile was an important part of him, so it was only fitting, Halt grimly supposed, that he died with one on his face.
Halt remembered the last time he saw Crowley's smile, the last day they had spent together. It had been a warm, sunny day at the end of the gathering, and everyone was happy and nothing was wrong.
Crowley had seen him off, laughing, smiling, and promising him that he would visit soon.
But he never had, and never would again.
How could they ever be the same without Crowley to guide them? How would Halt ever be the same without the red-head by his side?
He stood, staring down at the blank stone with Crowley's name carved in it. It felt wrong that cold stone should mark where his best friend was buried. It couldn't hope to match how colorful Crowley had been.
Nothing could.
Halt felt the empty place in his heart pull painfully. He wondered if there was anything Crowley had ever wanted to say or do that he had never gotten to do. Had there been anyone he loved? Anything he regretted saying, or never saying? Had there ever been a time when he needed help or guidance but had to pull through uncertainly for the other rangers? Did he ever despair at all the paperwork he hated? Was he ever lonely, locked away in the tower for all hours of the day, doing something he hated for the people he cared about? Yes, Halt realized bitterly, he was always by himself and lonely. He hid everything with a smile and laugh so everyone else could be happy. He was painfully unselfish, and Halt hated himself for not visiting more often.
But nothing could bring him back, and nothing he could say or regret could change the fact that Crowley Meratyn was dead. His best friend, the kindest man alive was buried in the cold dirt, with his last, lonely smile still lightly resting upon his face.
I keep writing angst and I don't know why. Anyway, I hope you liked this! Feel free to critique my work and tell me what you thought. Thanks for reading!