Things were meant to be so different. They were supposed to emerge from this case victorious. After completing the case they were supposed to have their wedding, exchanging their vows among the many flowers in their estate garden and tearful comrades by their side.

They were supposed to live happily ever after, till death did them part.

But as Haddock cradled Tintin's weak form in his arms, the torso of his light blue sweater soaked crimson from an enemy's bullet, he realized that death would already part them before they had the chance. Even so he wanted to still believe there was hope. He prepared to pick Tintin up and carry him. "You're alright," he lied desperately, "We'll just get you to the hospital, and you'll be alright—"

Tintin frowned at the captain's attempts to keep himself from falling apart. He mustered his strength to reach a hand out. "Cap…Archie, please. Don't. The nearest hospital is miles away. I've already…lost too much blood." His hand touched Archibald's cheek. "It's too late for me. I just…want you to know that I love you, and—"

Haddock fearfully grabbed Tintin's outstretched hand. "Don't you say that. Don't you dare say goodbye! Thundering—" He was trying so hard to stay strong for Tintin's sake, but the tears were already coming. He was shaking. Haddock swallowed the lump in his throat. "Please, I can't lose you," he begged as though some deity would hear him and make Tintin's wounds disappear. "Not now. Not like this. I'd do anything!"

Before he knew it, Tintin could feel tears running down his face as well. "Archie," he mustered. He felt himself growing more and more lightheaded. "Please make me a promise." He waited for Haddock's firm nod before continuing. "You have to promise me that…you won't give up the fight…even when I'm gone…Please continue to live…a fulfilling life without me."

Haddock lowered his head. "I…I can't—"

"You can!" The boy almost yelled, as much as it hurt. "You must. I know it's not…it's not what you wanted, but you simply must. That's all I could ever ask of you."

The captain wiped his eyes with his sleeves. His expression became fully determined, if only for a moment. "If you're the one who asks it of me, I will," he said, squeezing Tintin's hand. "I swear it!"

Tintin smiled weakly through his tears. He nodded his head. "That makes me…so happy. Merci, mon amour," was the last thing he said before his heart stopped beating.

.

50 years later…

Vanessa hadn't slept a wink in 48 hours. Just the thought of her closing her eyes and opening them to her dead master kept her attentive. She wanted to be right here in case he needed her—she was the only maid left at Marlinspike after all, with the recent passing of her parents. It was just the two of them in that old house.

Master Haddock's illness had truly put him through the ringer. The doctors wanted him to stay at the hospital in an attempt to extend his life, but Haddock refused. "Needled and pricked up to all these wires and tubes like a blistering puppet?" He had said, lively as ever despite being well into his nineties. "Never! If I'm gonna die soon, I'd rather it be in my own home, blistering barnacles!"

While confined to bed rest, the old sea captain spent his last days telling Vanessa stories from when he was a younger and livelier man. He'd tell her of her ever-so-stoic Grandpa Nestor, who passed while she was just a child. He'd tell her of the late professor Cuthbert Calculus, the leader of the moon rocket expedition almost 60 years ago, and the professor's noisy but well-meaning wife Bianca Castafiore, the opera diva famous for her rendition of the "Jewel Song" from Faust, who lived with him. Occasionally she'd hear about a pair of detectives, Thompson and Thomson, clumsy and almost twin-like in appearance, who visited often to assist the captain in many of his cases.

But most of all, she'd hear stories of a young reporter by the name of Tintin and his little white dog Snowy. Vanessa could tell right away how much this person meant to Haddock just by how much he'd talk about him. The captain could go on and on about that boy; their fateful meeting at the Karaboudjan, the day they found Red Rackham's Treasure, their journey to Tibet to rescue one of Tintin's dearest friends. Indeed the two were very close, in love even. Through the years they only became closer and closer until Haddock finally gained the courage to propose to Tintin.

But just before their wedding, they were sent on a case to investigate a new drug-smuggling ring, where Tintin was fatally shot by one of the thugs. Snowy, bless his loyal heart, died days after the funeral at the boy's grave. After that, the captain said that he pushed himself to carry on in Tintin's stead, as was the reporter's dying wish, eventually catching the leader of the drug ring himself and going on many more similar adventures throughout the rest of his life.

"He was buried with the engagement ring I got for him," Haddock told her once forlornly. "Like hell I would give it to anyone else!" He said defiantly. "After he passed, I could never fall in love again. I just couldn't, even if I tried. He was my One and Only; there's nobody in this world like him. I wouldn't be here talking to you right now if it weren't for him. Such a brave, beautiful soul he was—"

Suddenly the captain's breathing became strained. He groaned and coughed into his sleeve.

"Master-!" Vanessa cried out, preparing for the worst.

"It's alright," he said after the coughing was finished, though he was still in great pain. "It's alright." He reached out for her hand. "Vanessa," he said. "I want you to have the estate."

Her eyes widened in shock. "The estate?! Master Haddock, I just couldn't—"

"Please," he shushed her. "After all your family has done for mine, it's only right. And it's not like I have any heirs to pass it on to anyway," he chuckled inwardly. "I've listed you in my will as my sole beneficiary."

Vanessa started crying; she couldn't help it. He just couldn't die, not this man—this kind, stubborn old man who had been like another grandfather to her. "Master Haddock…"

"I've lived my life to the fullest, just as he had asked me," Haddock said quietly. "Even as my friends passed on, one by one, I continued to live, if only for him. But I've done so much, and I am tired now. There's not much more living left for me to do. Thank you for everything you've done for me." He closed his eyes, dying completely at peace.

Vanessa spent the rest of that night crying herself to sleep.

.

That night, Vanessa dreamed a strange dream.

She had found herself lying down in a flower field. A figure stood over her.

"Madam, madam are you alright?" The figure spoke to her in a voice she barely recognized.

"Grandpa…Nestor?" Vanessa's eyes widened. "Is it really you?" The tall butler helped her to her feet before being engulfed into a tearful embrace.

"W-well, yes…" Nestor answered, quite flustered. He awkwardly put his arms around her in return, whispering into her ear. "You've grown into such a fine young woman, my dear. I'm so proud of you." They pulled away and he gave her the weakest of smiles before returning to his natural disposition. "But I'm afraid we must hurry, or we shall be late."

"Late? Late for what?" He didn't answer her. The two of them walked on for a short spell before reaching the all-too-familiar estate.

"Just around the corner here," Nestor guided her into the garden in the back.

She drank in the sight, completely breath taken. Rows of chairs were aligned, occupied by people she had never seen before. A narrow carpet running down the middle led to a flowered arch with a pastor standing underneath. An orchestra practiced nearby. There were flowers planted as far as the eye could see. It was then she understood.

"Is this…a wedding? But whose wedding…?" Once again she was ignored before the guests were all made to stand up. The orchestra began to play a rendition of "I Love You Truly" as the bridesmaids and best men marched down the aisle.

And she recognized them, in spite of never having met them. The captain's stories had been so down to the last detail that she quickly made out the Thompsons, Professor Calculus, La Castafiore and her maid Irma—Vanessa's grandmother—each dressed to the nines and arranging themselves at the altar. She could also see a young Chinese boy and a blonde man with an eyepatch over one eye—Chang and Skut, she remembered. Nestor was soon there to join them also. A little white dog followed him, and Vanessa couldn't help but giggle as good old Snowy marched proudly down the aisle with a pillow in his mouth carrying two rings.

The first groom she almost didn't recognize. He looked so different there, so young and in his prime—his wrinkles gone, his white hair and beard now a raven black—that she almost couldn't tell it was her dear Master Haddock. He stood to the right of the altar, in a tailored white suit.

It seemed that the music picked up more triumphantly as the last person approached. Everyone's attention was focused on the second, more youthful groom—Vanessa almost felt so bold as to think he was quite beautiful, even. It must have been the way he carried himself, with such graceful confidence in his matching white suit—or perhaps the even more telling was his short red hair styled into a neat quiff. But truly what gave Tintin away, Vanessa thought, was the way she saw Haddock looking at him, eyes watering happily, the most blissful, love stricken smile on his face. That must be him, she thought.

Despite herself, Vanessa found herself also teary eyed, smiling widely as the couple began to exchange their vows.

They would live happily ever after, those two. And not even death could part them now.