A/N Don't own 'em… and there's probably a good reason for that.
Hope you enjoy.
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How Heavy the Load
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Years gone by, and yet- not a single moment had passed.
Days on the calendar, counted off ritually, but he was still there. Still in that moment, that space of time… Seconds, every heart beat, since that long ago moment- had all become empty, hollow.
Perhaps, he was just asking too much, asking for something to hold onto, a touch, a glance, a smile…
Dreaming of the better days, things he would never let go of. Moments he could not surrender. Strength he had relinquished years ago to the tidal wave of age.
Memories scatted, changed, but no less vibrant, by the cruel hand of Time. He walked roads until his legs felt like stone, until his heart thudded hollowly in his chest, and he thought he might be sick.
He could feel it in his flesh, his bones. He could tell by the decay of his muscles, his mind.
He was nothing, nothing except all that remained. Of him: of them: of their time together; a hollow remnant.
He had told them he would stay, because stopping on this path now would be a sin. But his resolve had weakened, his head had bowed, his back had bent, under the weight of time.
And now he was reaching back for them, waiting for them to take his hand and deliver him from his place, this path he was doomed to tread.
Had he lost himself so completely? Had time and age warped his mind and body so terribly?
No. All he had to do was keep moving. Because soon, oh, so soon, he would reach the end of his path. This road too, would fall prey to time and age, and he would be free from the constraints of the mortal world.
But until that day, he would keep moving, ever on, ever closer to the end of his road, his journey, and there, he would find them, and perhaps his strength, his determination, himself.
The world had stripped so much of him, things he had not surrendered willingly… but their faces, their names, and those times, he would carry to his grave, no matter how heavy the load.
- End-