A/N: Submittion for Smythofsky week day 7- Future. This one isn't something I'd usually write, and I tried to give it the happiest ending I could cos I refuse to leave a fic miserable. But there is character death so if that's not your thing, I reccomend not reading this.
Disclaimer: I don't own Glee :(
Withered.
Dave placed the flowers before the headstone, running his withered fingers along the letters that spelt out the name of the one he'd vowed to love till death do they part... Ten years on, though his body had aged, his love had never faded.
Wiping the stray tears from his lined face, Dave faced what remained of his beautiful family; their only daughter, Lucy, her husband, and his youngest grandson, Dylan. Catching his elbow, his daughter smiled sadly at him, before directing him back to their car, slowing her steps to keep up with him.
...
"Pop," Dave looked up at his grandson, who sat himself on Dave's footstool infront of him, "what was grandpa like?"
"You don't remember him?" The boy simply shook his head. "I guess you wouldn't, you were only two when he passed." He sighed, after ten years, he still had a hard time speaking of Sebastian's death. "Your grandpa, well... He was kinda mean," Dave chuckled, "he was arrogant, innapropriate and sarcastic... People had a hard time liking him."
Dylan frowned, confused. "Really? Then why would you like him?"
Dave smiled sadly, remembering his past and the numerous people who had asked him that same question. "He helped me through a lot, he was hilarious, he was kind and loving... He was my best friend, your grandpa."
"You loved each other a lot." The boy had no need to state it as a question. "You must miss him a lot, mum does." Dylan smiled sadly at his pop.
"We did, very much. Not a day goes by that I don't miss your grandpa." Dave's breathe hitched, he always tried to avoid speaking of him.
"Would he have liked me?"
Dave stared at the young boy who had inherited his grandpa's green eyes. "Your mum's last visit to grandpa, he was very sick by then; he couldn't leave his bed anymore. He used to ask for you, to hold you when he felt really bad. He said h-holding you in his arms, it ma- it made him feel better; at peace." Dave struggled to hold in his emotions as the memories of Sebastian's last few days crashed over him. "He loved you very much, kiddo." Dave smiled, patting his grandson's knee with a shaking hand. "We both do."
"I wish he was still here."
"Me too Dylan... Me too." He sighed.
"Dyl, time for bed." Came his daughter's voice from the entrance to the living room. "Tell pop goodnight, and get to bed."
"Goodnight pop, love you." Dave hugged him tightly.
"Love you to, kiddo." Dave whispered, before struggling back up onto his feet and shuffling towards his room. His room that used to be their room.
"Night dad, love you." His daughter kissed his cheek goodnight, Dave doing the same before making his way through his nightly routine and snuggling his tired body under the cold blankets.
His last thoughts were of Sebastian, his beautiful husband, and the wonderful life they'd built together.
...
Dave looked down and the familiar fingers laced through his.
"Bout time you showed up, big guy." That smirk sat on a face, no older then eighteen. "You know how I hate to be kept waiting."
"Sebastian?" Dave held the love of his life in his arms, ten years of heartache washing away as Sebastian's arms wrapped around him.
"I missed you too, Davey." His heart sighed at that beautiful voice. "We gotta go now, okay?"
Dave followed his love willingly.