Title: Adieu
Fandom: The Secret Saturdays
Word Count: 489
Author/Artist: Emo_Hazard/Jeklyn-Hyde
Pairing/Characters: Doyle Blackwell, Saturday family, friends.
Rating: PG for a curse word.
Summary: At Van Rooks funeral, Doyle is allowed to speak his peace to the man he considered a father.
Disclaimer/claimer: The Secret Saturdays (c) Jay Stephens & CN. Savy?
Doyle Blackwell swallowed to cool his nervous throat. He was surrounded by family and friends, all of whom had a part in stopping Argosts' Cryptid/Human war. All except one. Leonidas Van Rook was laid to rest beneath their feet, lilies and white roses were strewn over the fresh soil.
All ears were on Doyle now, waiting for him to speak a eulogy he'd only thought up that morning.
"I'm not gonna stand here and tell you what a 'great' man Leonidas Van Rook was. He was a crook and frugal old bat. Never could spend more than a buck on anything. He smacked me around every time I wasted good money. Never did a decent, honest thing in his life unless money was involved." Doyle had to pause to keep himself from crying. Not like anything he had just said wasn't true, but it was only the half of it.
"But he surprised the hell out of all of us when he did one unselfish deed, that got him nothing in the end. Its that reason we're all here today. And I mean the entire human race." All present raised their hands to their heads and saluted the old mercenary.
"Leonidas Van Rook. Merc, crook, thief and no good jerk. And..." Eyes clenched and upper lip firmly stiff. "The closest thing to a father I can remember." Doyle felt his sister, Drew; lay a hand on his shoulder, letting him know it was okay.
Doyle thought back to earlier that day in the airship. They had carried Van Rooks body back with them from Weird World. It would have been cruel to leave him there. After Zak was confirmed to be alright, Doyle spent the remainder of the trip back home with Van Rooks' body.
It was harder than he'd thought, spending time alone with a dead person. It wasn't like he and Van Rook and ever been close. But he had taught Doyle a lot. Survival, strategy, most of all financial savvy. Every time Doyle messed up, Van Rook drug him off the ground and told him to keep trying, even if it killed him.
When he had given Doyle his helmet, it was almost like a father passing something precious on to his son. Doyle had kept the helmet, even if he'd never wear it again.
And now he and Van Rook were at the end of their journey together. In the cool, dark room where the elder merc was being kept; Doyle leaned down and pressed their fore heads together in a gesture of gratitude and respect.
Back in the present, everyone was dispersing, going back to the airship. Doyle tossed three lilies onto Van Rooks headstone. The young man thought for a moment, and leaned down to take one back.
"Two is plenty." was the last thing he said to his mentor, his father, and his friend.