So this is a songfic set to The Horrible Crowes – Behold The Hurricane. If you haven't heard it yet, you must, it's amazing and instantly made me think of writing this. Here's the link: http:/ www.y outube. com/ watch ?v=fi -a5Okt orM

This fic is set 15 years after the event s of series 3 episode 8. It's unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Disclaimer: I own nothing


It started a few months ago; he'd seen her walking in the street pushing a pushchair which obviously contained her young daughter Molly. He'd only just managed to stop himself from running up to her and speaking to her about anything and everything all the while shifting about like an excited child. Instead he just stood there and watched her as she walked past him, disappearing round the corner and out of his life once again. He continued on his way, keeping his head down to stop himself from looking back to see if he could catch even the smallest glimpse of her.

It had taken him all that time to finally find it. The little piece of metal he now held in his hand, he'd made sure that Luigi had given it him before he left. The new owners never dared to go near it or even question why it was so special. Must have had something to do with the fact that it was his world and they played by his rules.

He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, placed the key in the lock and turned it. He allowed the door to swing open as he stood at the threshold surveying what was inside.

I remember everything we had. Every breath of this house creaking.
I'm familiar with the cold and the windows and the doors.

He stepped inside allowing his fingers to run over the wood of the door as he passed it. He walked through the kitchen and straight into the living room. Everything was as she left it, only a lot dustier. He picked up an old note pad and blew off the dust, almost choking himself as he tried to catch his breath. She'd told him about smoking and the effects it would have on him later on in his life, and of course she was right once again. It was one of the reasons he knew he had to come now, his time was nearing. He could feel it deep within his bones and he wanted to come back before he made his departure to the great big pub in the sky.

He moved over to the sofa and sat down, hearing the springs creak in protest after not having to move in a decade and a half. He looked at the last thing she had wrote on the pad, and smiled softly as he remembered all that business about Sam bloody Tyler. He traced his finger over her writing, feeling the indent of where she had pressed the pen into the paper. He sat for a minute just staring at it and remembering, before he tore it off and stuffed it into his trouser pocket, wanting any and all reminders that he could get. Just in case he didn't get to see her again in the pub.

And the sound of my heart beating.
Beating in and out of time.

He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the sofa, loosing himself in the sensations and feelings that the flat caused. Memories of her flashed in his mind, causing his heart to beat faster and faster. He wrenched his eyes open, he needed to stop remembering. He was the manc lion for god sake! He was not now, nor will he ever be, a nancy poofter who has them sort of feelings.

And it's such a shame. I heard the wind say this morning.
Be still my heart. I age by years at the mention of your name.

It seemed everywhere he went recently though, her name followed. He could hear it when passing people who were in deep conversation. He'd hear it when sat in a rowdy bar or on his own in his office. It was like the wind itself was speaking to him, reminding him of her and making him feel so old in the process. In this year he was over double her age and way out her league.

What a pity this season. You remember me my lover.
I don't recognize myself. I'm not the man you love.
Behold the hurricane. Behold the hurricane.

He got up off the sofa and went to the bookcase, glancing at the books and records she once owned. That's when he spotted it, just lodged in between two books was the letter she had written him so long ago. He tentatively plucked the envelope from its resting place and played with it between his fingers, unsure whether to open it or not. He decided that it wasn't a good idea right now and slid it into his inside blazer pocket, having it rest just above his heart.

He moved on in the room, walking around and inspecting her other possessions. He walked past a mirror and his reflection in the corner of his eye caught his full attention. He stood there for a moment and just looked at himself. The amount of care he had taken of himself since she had left had slowly stopped, but he didn't realise that he looked that bad. Even if he walked into the pub right now she probably wouldn't recognise him. He wasn't the same man that she would remember.

I walk around these empty rooms. We once moved like the morning.
Silhouettes they haunt this house like a memory haunts me now as if it were a dream.
As if it were a dream.

He sighed and walked away, heading in the direction of her bedroom. He stood at the doorway, he felt as if he was invading her privacy somehow. He berated himself for being so stupid and just stormed in. He didn't dare rummage in her underwear drawer no matter how tempted he was, instead he just opened her wardrobe and ran his fingers across the many pieces of clothing she had. It felt surreal seeing them here without her wearing them. He carefully closed the door and walked out of the room, it was stirring up too many memories and he couldn't handle it.

I heard the moon has visions of her nightly.
I heard the mighty rivers cry out her name.

He walked out of her flat and quietly shut the door behind him. He jogged down the stairs and opened the exit door becoming enveloped within the dark of the night. If he had looked up, he'd have noticed that it was a full moon and that the sky was empty of stars, almost as if they knew what was going to happen. He carried on walking, he needed to do something about his appearance before he left, so he headed towards the comfort of his office. Once he arrived, he rummaged around his drawers before finding the things he needed and headed to the bathroom.

He walked out twenty minutes later clean shaven, his hair cut and wearing fresh clean clothes; clutching a half empty bottle of whisky. He was ready.

And I saw the heavens and the earth.
Yes I saw the heavens and the earth cry over you.

He once again walked out into the night and slowly made his way to the pub. He pulled the collar of his coat up against his neck when it started to lightly rain and quickened his pace, not wanting to ruin his freshly remade image. He dumped the now empty bottle in the street, not caring where it ended up, and continued his journey.

At the door the leaves had fallen.
Suddenly I realized that you were gone.

After turning corners of endless and nameless streets, he had finally arrived. He stood still and just looked at the door for a few moments. The warm glowing light creeping out from the cracks; inviting him in. He took a deep breath and walked towards the door. He grabbed the handle, twisted it and pulled, staring at the light within.


So what do you think? Review and let me know :)