Disclaimer: I do not own anything.
Warnings: CHARACTER DEATH! Spoilers for the film if you haven't seen it. Highly recommend it if you haven't. ONE OFF.
Loving Him.
I kissed him before he went, pressed him against the wall and kissed him like I had wanted to for months but been too afraid.
Something had told me that it would be my only chance, some horrible inkling in the back of my busy mind, forcing through the calculations and the fear.
I should have told him not to go.
I should have held onto him and kept the man I loved with me.
But I didn't.
I let him go, I let him be brave and do his bit to rescue the Professor that had been so good to me while I stayed behind because I was too afraid.
I watched him as those mirror had closed, watched how his beautiful body had trembled first with fear and then with pain.
And then he was gone.
I knew right in that moment, when that man told me that we could only wait, that I shouldn't have let him go.
Something told me that it would be the last time I saw him.
Hindsight is a bitch.
Sometimes I have wondered if it would have been different if I had gone with him, if I had been with him.
Would I have been able to save him?
You have all told me that I could have done nothing.
Of course none of you have really told me how he died but what you say about your treatment by the English…well I can put two and two together guys.
He was French.
They were the enemy.
But still…if I'd been there…been with him I could have at least told him how I felt…how much I loved him…
And then my logical brain always kicks in.
If I had been back in the 14th century I wouldn't have been able to help fix the machine after that idiot had come back with a live grenade and blown the entire machine to hell.
If I hadn't been there you lot would never have gotten back.
And that man that had sent the man I loved to his death would still be here.
Francois has no grave I can sit by; his body is back in the 14th century.
They probably didn't even give him a grave…
No I can't think like that or I'll cry.
Too late, I am crying.
I've been crying the whole time I write this.
You see I'm writing this so you all know why I am doing this, why I have done what I have done.
I loved that man from the very moment I met him.
I was working up the courage to tell him when everything had happened.
And then he died.
And now I am all alone.
I don't hold any of you responsible for his death, not even you Professor.
He wanted to save you and I cannot fault him for that.
I know you all did what you could to keep him safe.
It just…wasn't enough.
Francois always believed in heaven and I hope that there is such a place and that he is peaceful and happy there.
I would say I hope to join him but…well what I am doing now is the greatest sin a man can make.
Maybe I will be forgiven enough that I can see him just one last time…tell him I loved him, no tell him I love him.
I hope God will be kind.
I love you guys like my family, better than my family in fact.
They never understood me, not really.
They tried and I do love them all but you lot, you got me.
I hope you liked me.
I like to think that you liked me.
When the time comes please, don't bury me.
I don't want a lonely grave when Francois doesn't have one.
Burn me.
And then scatter my ashes over the dig sight where I was happiest with him.
Goodbye my friends.
~ * ~ * ~
They'd found him in his tent, lying peacefully on his bed. The letter had been folded neatly on the floor beside his camp bed, next to the two empty pill bottles. He'd looked like he was just sleeping; in fact they had thought he was when they first saw him. There was even a small smile on his face. And clutched tightly in his hands, held right over his heart, was Francois shirt, the one he'd been wearing on that day.
"Oh Josh," Kate had whispered, stroking his cold cheek as tears fell down her face, "He loved you too." It was true what she said, Francois had confided in her what he thought of Josh and she'd encouraged him to act on his feelings. The shy Frenchman never had. But the last thing he'd whispered as he died in her arms had been Josh's name…
Tearfully they'd obeyed his wishes, disobeying his strict family who had wanted a traditional burial in his hometown. They'd laid his body out on a funeral pyre, wrapping him in white linen. But they'd left the shirt in his hands; they'd never part him from that last bit of Francois. They'd drank to the couple that had never had a chance to be together as they'd watched the pyre burn.
And they'd scattered his ashes just like he wanted.
~ * ~ * ~
"Francois…"
"Joshua…"
"I love you…always have…"
"I love you too…"
A/N Wow that was heavy for me. I hate these sort of stories and here I am writing one! But it's what I kept thinking of when I watched the movie! R & R.