It's summer, so let's celebrate with Herondale family fics! :D
Post-CP2. Slight spoilers if you haven't read CP2's epilogue. Italics are Will's thoughts.
As Will begins his journey in the afterlife, his guide revives him.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Infernal Devices or any of its characters. Cassandra Clare has that honor.
Where am I? What am I doing here?
Gray haired Will believed he was either flying or falling; he wasn't completely sure. His stiff limbs felt liberated, as if he was free of heavy chains that once wrapped his entire body. Everything around him rushed past with dizzying speed – voices, images, thoughts – but he couldn't comprehend them completely. What did stand out were just snippets things that reminded him of home: loving gray eyes, a measure or two of violin music, a shock of silvery hair, a familiar voice calling his name. A wind filled his lungs and kept traveling in his veins. His own breathing seemed to be too quick for his heart to keep up with. The feeling filled him with a powerful warmth and sharp sensations on his skin that it almost hurt, yet he wasn't in agony. It felt more like a thorough cleansing than punishment.
Something brushed against his fingertips. As it moved closer, Will tensed but let out a breath he was holding as he felt smooth skin encircle his bare wrist.
Is this...?
Will's head jerked forward as he was pulled. Bursting light forced his eyes shut, and he braced himself for a collision or his immediate end of consciousness. The crash never came. Curiosity opened his eyes. He was standing in a field of tall grasses rippling from a breeze, an ocean of summer. Sunlight covered everything in and out of his line of sight.
Shaking his head clear, Will realized he wasn't alone. The grip on his wrist was not a phantom rope, but a girl's small hand. The girl was wearing a white dress made of a light fabric. Tiny fresh flowers, white and blue, were woven in her long black hair. His gaze locked onto her face, and he gaped.
Her eyes were the same as his, the exact vivid blue that he and his sisters inherited from their mother. Her smile was all her own - beautiful like the sun that visited the morning after a summer night's storm. In the past, Will would have avoided looking at her to prevent his nightmares from exploding and haunting his reality, but this time, his eyes remained fixed. He felt tears roll rapidly down his cheeks. This sight, this moment was better than the dreams he wished he had of her when he was a heartbroken child in the London Institute. He had missed her since he woke up to the echoes of their mother's mournful sobbing that one morning. He missed her now, even though she was standing a short arm's length away from him.
"Ella!" Will cried. As old as he was, his voice could not mask the sound of youthful disbelief and happiness. The young girl caught him in her arms, supporting his weight, as he buckled to his knees, and she knelt beside him. Had there been others around, they would have been quite an odd sight – an old man grasping a young girl's hand as if it was the only treasure worth holding onto in his life. His sister. His dear sister was right here by his side. He had so much to tell her, unspoken thoughts that accumulated over the years he had lived without her. But where would he begin?
"Ella... By the Angel, I've missed you." She took his face in her hands. Blue met blue. Peaceful, Will decided, was a weak word to say how he felt at that moment, but he could not describe it any other way.
"I've been waiting for you, Gwilym." She said softly as she pulled Will closer. Will's arms were stiff with age, but he managed to wrap her in an embrace. His head rested on her shoulder, and he was reminded of the time when he was still a young boy in need of comfort only his protective elder sibling could give.
Her hands, untouched by life's bitter burdens, began smoothing his gray hair. Suddenly, Will felt he was being jolted awake from a long period of sleep. His body began to pulse with energy, as if his core carried a heartbeat of its own. The gray in his hair gave way to inky black with every gentle motion of Ella's hand. His blood ran warm, feeding his soul with vigor. There were muscles lining his limbs again. Breathing deeply, Will tightened his arms around Ella. He closed his eyes in relief; she was breathing in his arms.
Ella finally pulled Will to his feet. In the land of endless summer, Will Herondale stood up as his eighteen year old self, no longer burdened by time. His hold on his sister's hand remained firm; the strength in his fingers matched hers. There was no chance of him letting her go.
"I have so much to tell you," Will said, trying to keep his voice steady.
Ella grinned, the wind tugging at the strings of flowers in her hair. She was an angel; there was no other word for her. "Tell me everything."
A/N: The reason I don't break down in tears when thinking of Will's guilt about Ella's death is knowing that they both share an afterlife. All reviews are loved and appreciated. ^.^