Due to the lack of stories about Fabian and Gideon, I figured I write this angsty little number, mostly because it just popped into my head one night. Reviewers will be rewarded with virtual Brownie points, cookies, hugs, sexual favours from fictional characters etc etc. Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did, Remus and Sirius would be going at it like rabbits, Lucius and Hermione would be having lots of little frizzy blonde babies, and Snape would be handcuffed to my bedpost wearing nothing but a blush and a red bow on certain pieces of his anatomy. I'm just playing with a bucket and spade in JK's sand pit for a while. =] Enjoy
It's fire. Burning, burning, red hot pokers, liquid flames, raging through veins, burning, burning, red hot, burning, why won't it stop, terrible painful burning, why won't it stop, why why why why, liquid flames, he'll go MAD, he knows-
And air. Pure, clean, cool late summer oxygen, filling lungs, filling with hope.
But it tastes of death, of copper, of pain, of suffering, and the ground is sticky...
And he knows. He knows.
He'll die. He knows this. Because how can he live when his brother, one half of him, one half of his soul, is gone? It's Fabian's blood on the floor, his blood, he knows it. And as he raises his head from the concrete, gravel digging painfully into his jaw, he smiles. Death is coming, he knows, and he welcomes it with open arms, no matter the consequence, the pain, the suffering it will inflict on those he loved, those who had loved him. Because he knows, without his brother, without Fabian, without the other half of his soul, he is nothing. He knows.
A hero, they'll say. A selfish hero, he knows.