1. Life
Isn't it funny how you only appreciate things properly when you no longer have them? It had been the case for many things throughout his life – like when Sammy, his best friend since forever, had moved so far away he might as well be living in another universe; or like when he was seven, and he'd awoken late at night to find his mother slipping a coin beneath his pillow, and had quickly lost his belief in the magical figures that up until then he'd been so enthralled by. That had never stopped him from encouraging his little sister's faith in them, though – belief was an important thing, maybe the most important. He could never have ruined that for her.
His sister. Little Rosie. Five years younger than him, but they got on better than any other siblings in the town – in the country, even! Ensuring her happiness was his entire raison d'etre, and vice versa. When tears streamed down her face from some nasty comment, he'd be there to hold her close and make her smile again; when he holed himself up in the space between the wall and the bed, blinking back tears as the echoes of resentment and disapproval bounced around inside his head, she'd come and sit silently by his side, offering up all her love and support and never acknowledging her invincible big brother's underlying fragility.
He remembered one night, after probably the worst day either of them had ever experienced, after they'd received news that Georgie, their neighbour and Rosie's best friend, one of several little girls with a crush on the town's resident troublemaker, had lost her battle with the typhoid fever, leaving behind her adoring baby brother. They'd both been doing their best to sleep, but found that the grief would not let them. Rosie had crawled into bed with him, face still red and wet from crying, and she'd made him promise that he'd never leave her. He'd told her, softly but firmly, that he would always be there for her. Always, until they were both old and grey and wrinkly, like grandma. She'd hugged him tightly, and after that, the Sandman had come to lead them away from harsh reality to the soft snowfields of the mind, where they played for hours with the ghost of a friend. They woke with tears on their faces and peace in their hearts.
If he could have smiled at the memory, he would have done, but the cold had locked all of his muscles in place; instead, as his memories blurred and faded, he could only think, I guess that makes me a liar.
Disclaimer: Not mine, thank goodness; I don't want all that responsibility.
A/N: I am doing the 100 Themes Challenge, a bit of a pick-and-mix between 4 variations. I am writing for all of my fandoms, so the whole Challenge probably won't end up here. I expect 90% to be angsty or at least vaguely depressing, and there won't be any pairings because I don't ship any of these characters. Anyway, enjoy.