Ok, I don't own any of these characters and all hail LMM. I hope you like it. Just a kind of random bit of fic; the product of a wandering mind...

Tell me if I should write background information.

A Long Way Home

It is the year 1920; the war is over and the boys are coming home for good.

Walter. I can't do this alone. He needs a father. He needs you; I need you. We're a family, even though you're dead. Oh, God, help us...

As Una sat on the warm dry sand, she watched the sun set, a blazing ball, on her little son. They were near home, but then they were not. Her family would never forgive her for what she had done. Could never forgive her for what she'd done. Never. Self doubt crowded into her. She was alone, or so she thought...

Suddenly, Una heard footsteps behind her. The heavy footsteps of a man. Turning quickly, she saw a man in khaki. He stopped abruptly about twenty paces from where she sat. His face was serious and the light in his grey eyes dull and sombre. Hot tears pricked her eyes, and she fought valiantly to hold them back. Her throat was soon choked with tears, her pale cheeks wet with them, like a summer rain.

"W...Walter!" Una cried, her voice choked with emotion. She sprang up and darted towards him. He didn't move. His grey eyes showed him entranced. The girl, that she was, almost paused before reaching him but his face lit up with an encouraging smile.

"Una," Walter murmured hoarsely.

With that Una threw her body against Walter's and burst into tears mixed with peals of laughter. Instinctively, he grasped her waist and lifted her up. They twirled around in a circle, Una's dress flowing like a river of water. The happy chorus of their laughter rang out merrily.

And it was heard, by a small boy down by the shore, who had seen the whole performance. He was three years old and becoming more and more like his father as the days went by. His straight, black hair had the same sheen, his milky white skin pale and ethereal, and his eyes grey and serious. Emotions, sorrows, pains and sufferings of many generations lurked in their depths.

"Who are you and what have you done to my mother?" a small voice questioned.

Walter and Una looked up guiltily from their embrace, a blush staining their cheeks.

Surprisingly, it was Walter who spoke, "Is that how you would speak to your father?" he reprimanded him gently.

"No. I'm awful sorry, Sir. I did not mean to be unpolite," the child said, ashamed. He looked up at the man from beneath his long lashes. Walter only smiled.

"It's ok, Walter," his mother said gently.

There was a pause.

"Oh, well, so long as you can make mama happy," Walter sighed resignedly, turning to go.

"Walter, come here," the older bearer of the name commanded.

Then he looked down at his small son. Just as he was about to say something, the latter spoke up.

"Are you my father?" he asked quietly, his eyes large and questioning.

"Do you want me to be?"

Then, something passed between them. A certain unspoken understanding; the spark that ignites the flame of the bond between father and son. A flame that would burn in each soul til the day he died.

"Yes, but only if you really and truly are; which I think you must be 'cause I look a jolly lot like you," the small chap said quickly.

After a pause, "Well, I am."

"Good. Now I have a mummy and a daddy," young Walter said jubilantly.

"Come here." Walter lifted his child up and held him in his arms, surveying him. Then he slipped one arm around Una's waist, and drew them both close to his heart.

"Yay! Family hug!" the child cried excitedly, flinging his arms about his parents' necks. They all laughed and stood together in the setting sun.

"What is it, Walt?" his father asked of him, as he sat down beside his son on the now cold sand.

"I can hear something, Daddy," the boy replied.

"What is it?"

"I dunno, much."

Gravely they sat upon the silent shore.

When Una came to join them, she sat quietly, joining in on their thoughtfulness. Her blue eyes gazed knowingly out to sea. They let the sand sift through their fingers, like flour through a sieve. All three of them looked out over the black water of the ocean at night, and saw deep into the horizon and the starlight sky. And, for a moment, they saw what was beyond; over the waves, lapping rhythmically upon the shore. Far beyond the dividing sea. Immortal mortals, ethereal in the moonlight. White marble skin glowing eerily, ebony hair, eyes dreamy and shining, with the knowledge of the unknown.

"It sounds like a piper."

"Does it?" Walter asked, a shadow passing over his face. Una faltered, tears blurring her vision. Young Walter had always been a kaleidoscope of emotions. He was dreamy like his father. He beheld the same passion for beauty and hate of ugliness.

"But we do not fear it. We follow it," the boy murmured, eyes alight. Little did he know of the shadows that crossed his parents' faces. How their spirits cringed.

And so, they sat, listening to the Piper's eerie, musical tune. They longed for the beckoning hills, not knowing their fate. But knowing that only faith could save them.

Okey dokes. Nice ominous ending, eh? Haha, its meant to be! Silent shore, Dividing Sea, Beckoning Hills; not my words. Please give your opinion. Account not found, I hope you like it. And Mrs Walter Blythe...and all you other W/U fans and other LMM fanatics.

Is she not just great?