Note: This is one of a few transitional pieces between my little bursts of Neville and Luna goodness (NLG) and Simply Nevilleness (SN). All of my NLG and SN and those things in between is backstory for the epic 'Supposed Happiness' by MoonCroww. If you want to fully understand the whole situation and future events … toddle over and check it out. Thanks. ~Lady Roxyeth, Dragonsbane
Important: *Excerpts* from 'Supposed Happiness', altered only to third person.
Thanks MoonCroww for allowing me to plagiarize. Reminder: Mental piracy is a two-way street.
Finally
Sun.25.Jan.2004
***
The wound reopened some when the three of them apparated to the street in front of Ron's house in the early morning hours. Ron fished in his pocket for his key, somewhat awkwardly, because Neville was leaning heavily on him while Harry pressed a cloak tightly to Neville's midsection as it began to bleed again. They stumbled in through the front door, bloody and battered, and Hermione and Ginny ran in from the kitchen.
"Oh my …" Hermione gasped, running to her husband. Tears filled her eyes when she saw the slash on Ron's chest through the rip in the shirt he was wearing.
"Sorry about the shirt, Mione," Ron whispered as she embraced him.
Ginny started for Harry but he stopped her.
"Neville's worse."
"Diffendo to the stomach," Ron put in.
Hermione whimpered and Ginny reached for Neville.
"Let me see …"
"No, I'm fine," Neville lied, standing on his own and holding the balled up cloak with his own hands.
"You're not fine," Harry stated. "Let her fix it."
"I can help you," Ginny told him, stepping to him.
Neville took a step back, and winced involuntarily.
"I made it through the night, didn't I?"
Ron frowned at him, "But it opened again this morning."
"I'm fine. Where are Ivy and Lotus?"
Hermione looked confused, but answered, "Still sleeping. The kids' room."
Neville made his way up the stairs, opening the door only slightly and peering in. He saw his daughters immediately and smiled at their beauty. A tap on his shoulder notified him that he had company. He turned to see Ron looking at him oddly.
"Why don't you rest for awhile; at least until they wake up. Your room is ready if you want it."
Glancing at his girls' once more, he nodded and let Ron lead him to the blank-walled bedroom down the hall where he had spent many hours after the attack on the hospital. A small groan escaped when Neville sat down and Ron furrowed his brow.
"Why won't you let her look at it?" he asked finally.
"I don't need her to look at it," was the answer given. A knock sounded on the door and Neville looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, holding a bandage roll. He stepped in without being invited and shut the door behind him.
"Can I look at it?" he asked, stepping to his friends.
"As long as you don't try to close it," Neville told him, standing. "I remember the time you tried to heal your cheek when you nicked it shaving."
Ron chuckled and stood to help Neville off with his cloak and taking the blood-stained one from his hands.
"Just bandaging, thanks," Harry mumbled, waving the roll.
Neville took off his shirt, cringing as the fabric pulled away from the jagged opening across his abdomen.
Harry made a face and Ron grimaced, "Neville …"
"It's alright, really. I hardly feel it anymore. It's just tender."
Neville held out his arms and stood as still as he could while Harry wrapped the bandage around him tightly. When Harry finished he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
Ron laughed and poked the four centimeter thick patch-job covering his friend's midsection.
"Nice, Harry."
"I don't think you had to use the whole roll," Neville commented. "I do believe I'm heftier now than I ever was in school."
"Fine," Harry scoffed and went back to work, taking some of the excess bandage off. He trimmed it up with a weak, but properly placed severing charm. Neville glared at Harry after he muttered the word.
"I can't believe you just did that," he muttered.
"Did you have a better idea?"
"A knife? Gnaw through it with your teeth? Anything other than … that?" Neville spat, though he wasn't angry; more stressed than anything.
"Too late," Harry shrugged, pushing up his glasses.
Neville sat down heavily on the bed and Harry and Ron sat on either side. It reminded Neville of the day after Luna died, only now it was different; Harry had called them his brothers last night. He held this a high honour coming from these two.
The three of them heaved a collective sigh, Ron leaning against Neville and Neville slumped into Harry.
"I should go tend to my wife," Ron mumbled looking straight ahead.
"Or let her tend to you …" Neville smirked.
Harry snorted.
"No, that will be me," he said, pushing them over leaning into Neville. "Hermione is all in a dither down there, Ron."
"I know," the other man breathed.
Neville was frowning and Ron quirked an eyebrow at him, suddenly worried that talking about their wives upset him.
"This isn't fair," Neville grumbled.
"What's that?" Harry asked, looking at him over the rims of his glasses for they had slipped to the tip of his nose again.
Neville made a look between disgust and boredom.
"I got tended to by two men."
Harry apologized pushing up his spectacles again and cursing the obviously broken nose pieces while Ron laughed and ruffled Neville's already disheveled hair.
"At least we're cute," the red-head laughed, planting a kiss on the top of Neville's head. Neville made another disgusted face and pushed him, stumbling toward the door. Harry shook his head with a stupid smile and patted Neville's shoulder as he, too, made for the door.
"Get some rest, Neville," he said simply, shoving a giggling Ron out of the room and shutting the door behind him.
Neville sighed and flopped back on the bed, his legs still hanging over the side. Last night was still vivid in his memories, but he didn't really think about the fighting or the pain.
He thought about her and he smiled.
She had been there when he'd fallen.
Neville had seen her and she had spoken to him. Luna had touched him.
*Ron knelt next to him and was trying to stop the bleeding.
"You have to hold it together just a moment more. You know the plan," he had said*, but Neville didn't hear him.
"Hello, Neville," was what he heard. She was there, kneeling on his other side with her sad smile and her blue eyes twinkling.
"You have to stay, honey," she whispered and he forgot about his wound.
*"I don't think I can," Neville said softly*, longing to hold her again.
*"You have to; we can't do this without you," Ron told him, shaking and glancing over his shoulder at Harry.*
Luna nodded, "You have to."
*"I can't…" he said again.
"Get up! You don't have a choice!" Ron demanded.*
"I'm waiting for you," his wife said, reaching out and touching his face.
*"Just let me…"* All Neville wanted to do was follow her, and not make her wait anymore. He didn't want to wait anymore.
*"NO! Get up!" Ron shouted forcing him to sit up.
Neville gasped in pain and clenched his hands into fists, gripping his wand.
"Ron…stop. I need…rest," he begged*, looking into his wife's eyes, pleading with her as well.
*"You can rest soon, just hold on a little longer. For me. Hold on for me. For your girls, they need you."*
"Take care of Ivy and Lotus, Neville. I'll wait for you all, but you have to stay."
The woman stood and peered down at him.
*"Luna…" he muttered gaining strength.
"Yes, hold on for her, she'd want you to finish this," Ron agreed, bracing his friend's arm around his neck and preparing to stand.*
Luna watched as Ron struggled at bringing Neville to his feet. Once to his feet, he made eye-contact with her and she winked.
"I'm always here. I'm waiting for you. I love you," was the last thing she said before Ron pulled Neville to Harry's side.
The man on the bed touched his cheek where he'd felt her soft fingertips hours before and drifted to sleep, her scent still hanging around his head.
* * *
He awoke to Lotus and Ivy on either side of him, frowning at the bandage.
"There's my babies," he whispered, and they looked at him with wide eyes. They looked so much like their mother, even at this age, that he almost cried just seeing them. They both buried their faces in his shoulders and he hugged them.
Hermione had found a clean shirt for him by the time he woke up and she gave it to him as the girls dragged him out of the bedroom. Ron insisted he and the girls spend the day with them, and, seeing as Harry had taken Ginny and Lily home soon after he had fallen asleep, he accepted.
Everyone was in high spirits. It was the dawning of a new day, they believed. Voldemort had met his match in Harry, Ron and Neville and had been defeated.
Ron could be seen grinning for no real reason at anything and everything and Neville found himself tormented by one of Ron's surprise kisses to the top of the head on more than one occasion. All the kids thought this was more than giggle-worthy and Ron drew encouragement from them.
"I can't help it if I'm happy. Plus," he said, ruffling Neville's hair for the umpteenth time that day, "I've always wanted a little brother."
Neville reached up to fix his hair, but dropped his hand, giving up.
"I'm not that much younger than you."
"I don't care if you're two seconds younger than me, it still makes you littler than me," Ron informed him, pinching Hermione's backside as he passed her.
"Ron!" she growled through clenched teeth, smiling a little.
Neville rolled his eyes. Meshach ran to him and tugged on his sleeve.
"Unca Nefful," the boy said and Neville smiled at the red-haired toddler.
Ron grinned again as Neville turned in his seat and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"What's on your mind, kiddo?"
Meshach didn't reply, but held out a flower to his uncle which promptly kissed Neville on the nose.
"Thanks, I needed that," the man smiled, tapping the boy's nose and ruffling his hair, the flower still clinging to him. Meshach laughed and leaned against Neville. Hermione took the blossom off her friend's face and put it in a glass of water.
"The kids have been in love with those since the girls gave them those two a few months ago."
"They're nice," Neville agreed, picking Meshach up and putting him in his lap. "Have they multiplied, then?"
"Multiplied?" Ron laughed. "They've started a colony!"
"They do that, I meant to tell you. When the stems intertwine they grow together and new stems begin to form out of the old ones."
The child in his arms seemed to be unsure of the extra padding around his uncle's midsection and prodded it.
"Meshach," Hermione scolded, "Stop poking your uncle."
Ron snorted and Meshach let his head fall into Neville's chest.
"And don't pout," she continued. "Where are the girls?"
There was an excited squeal and the pounding of little feet as Mab streaked passed the kitchen entryway. Ron nearly fell out of his chair with mirth, slapping a hand on the table. Neville laughed, but tried not to when he saw Hermione's look of horror. Meshach scrambled down and out of the room.
"It's that name! If you would call her Persephone she wouldn't be so … so … you!" Hermione accused. Neville found this a little far-fetched.
"What?! When have I ever ran through the house starkers?" he asked, tears coming to his eyes.
Hermione folder her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow.
"Don't answer that," Ron said sternly, standing up, laughter gone. "I'll go find her."
Neville shuddered and wished he'd missed that exchange.
"Please do, before Meshach …"
She was interrupted by a giggling Meshach running passed the doorway already in the buff, followed by his sister.
"I'm going, I'm going," Ron said, holding up a hand as Hermione opened her mouth to speak before he disappeared into the house calling for his children
"Where are my daughters?" Neville asked, suddenly aware of their absence.
He was answered when Ivy and Lotus ran into the kitchen and latched onto his legs, squealing and gurgling. Meshach chased after them, but before he got far, Ron reappeared with Mab under one arm and snatched him up.
"Oh, no you don't," the man told the boy, standing straight. "A bit of a flirt, this one." With that, he turned and carted the naked children upstairs to be redressed.
Hermione sighed and Neville gave her a sympathetic look.
"I love my husband more than anything, but he's a bad influence on the children."
Neville frowned, "Surely, you don't mean he's …"
"Oh, no!" she cut in before he could finish. "I meant in the genetic sense. The Weasley in the children makes them do the oddest things."
Neville agreed with this, though he was sure Hermione would not have had it any other way.
* * *
It was dark by the time Neville took his daughters home, and after the day they'd had, he wasn't surprised to find them yawning and rubbing their eyes. They had gotten too big for their old crib so he'd found a child's bed that wasn't much taller than a mattress on the floor. Ivy and Lotus were sound sleepers and didn't move much, so he had no fear of them rolling off, nor would they get out of bed until he woke them, so there would be no running about the house before he got up.
He laid them side by side in the bed and tucked them in, sitting on the floor and petting their hair as they fell asleep. Neville watched them for few more moments after they'd drifted off before going to his room and climbing into his own bed. He laid on his back for a moment, thinking about his daughters and his friends. Looking to his left and the empty bed beside him, he thought about Luna.
Neville rolled over onto her side of the bed and took a deep breath. Her fragrance of strawberries was always there, and, before, he didn't know if it was magic or if it was his imagination. Now, though, he knew it was her, and that she was there. He smiled and closed his eyes.
Feeling eyes on him, he prayed that she would be there again when he opened them and gasped when he saw that she was.
Only she wasn't.
Neville smiled at the two pairs of twinkling blue eyes that belonged to his daughters.
"I thought you were sleeping," he whispered, surprised some by the fact that they actually got out of bed.
"Wote up," Lotus told him, simply.
"Sleep wif you," Ivy put in.
Neville pulled his daughters up and into the bed, giving them room by moving back to his side. He held them both with one arm and kissed their foreheads.
"I love you," he told them quietly, and they were asleep in minutes. He closed his eyes and thought of Luna again; how she couldn't be there, but gave him the closest thing.
'I love you, too, Luna.'
©2004 – Roxanne L. Martin, Writings From Behind The Red Door
Important: *Excerpts* from 'Supposed Happiness', altered only to third person.
Thanks MoonCroww for allowing me to plagiarize. Reminder: Mental piracy is a two-way street.
Finally
Sun.25.Jan.2004
***
The wound reopened some when the three of them apparated to the street in front of Ron's house in the early morning hours. Ron fished in his pocket for his key, somewhat awkwardly, because Neville was leaning heavily on him while Harry pressed a cloak tightly to Neville's midsection as it began to bleed again. They stumbled in through the front door, bloody and battered, and Hermione and Ginny ran in from the kitchen.
"Oh my …" Hermione gasped, running to her husband. Tears filled her eyes when she saw the slash on Ron's chest through the rip in the shirt he was wearing.
"Sorry about the shirt, Mione," Ron whispered as she embraced him.
Ginny started for Harry but he stopped her.
"Neville's worse."
"Diffendo to the stomach," Ron put in.
Hermione whimpered and Ginny reached for Neville.
"Let me see …"
"No, I'm fine," Neville lied, standing on his own and holding the balled up cloak with his own hands.
"You're not fine," Harry stated. "Let her fix it."
"I can help you," Ginny told him, stepping to him.
Neville took a step back, and winced involuntarily.
"I made it through the night, didn't I?"
Ron frowned at him, "But it opened again this morning."
"I'm fine. Where are Ivy and Lotus?"
Hermione looked confused, but answered, "Still sleeping. The kids' room."
Neville made his way up the stairs, opening the door only slightly and peering in. He saw his daughters immediately and smiled at their beauty. A tap on his shoulder notified him that he had company. He turned to see Ron looking at him oddly.
"Why don't you rest for awhile; at least until they wake up. Your room is ready if you want it."
Glancing at his girls' once more, he nodded and let Ron lead him to the blank-walled bedroom down the hall where he had spent many hours after the attack on the hospital. A small groan escaped when Neville sat down and Ron furrowed his brow.
"Why won't you let her look at it?" he asked finally.
"I don't need her to look at it," was the answer given. A knock sounded on the door and Neville looked up to see Harry standing in the doorway, holding a bandage roll. He stepped in without being invited and shut the door behind him.
"Can I look at it?" he asked, stepping to his friends.
"As long as you don't try to close it," Neville told him, standing. "I remember the time you tried to heal your cheek when you nicked it shaving."
Ron chuckled and stood to help Neville off with his cloak and taking the blood-stained one from his hands.
"Just bandaging, thanks," Harry mumbled, waving the roll.
Neville took off his shirt, cringing as the fabric pulled away from the jagged opening across his abdomen.
Harry made a face and Ron grimaced, "Neville …"
"It's alright, really. I hardly feel it anymore. It's just tender."
Neville held out his arms and stood as still as he could while Harry wrapped the bandage around him tightly. When Harry finished he stepped back to admire his handiwork.
Ron laughed and poked the four centimeter thick patch-job covering his friend's midsection.
"Nice, Harry."
"I don't think you had to use the whole roll," Neville commented. "I do believe I'm heftier now than I ever was in school."
"Fine," Harry scoffed and went back to work, taking some of the excess bandage off. He trimmed it up with a weak, but properly placed severing charm. Neville glared at Harry after he muttered the word.
"I can't believe you just did that," he muttered.
"Did you have a better idea?"
"A knife? Gnaw through it with your teeth? Anything other than … that?" Neville spat, though he wasn't angry; more stressed than anything.
"Too late," Harry shrugged, pushing up his glasses.
Neville sat down heavily on the bed and Harry and Ron sat on either side. It reminded Neville of the day after Luna died, only now it was different; Harry had called them his brothers last night. He held this a high honour coming from these two.
The three of them heaved a collective sigh, Ron leaning against Neville and Neville slumped into Harry.
"I should go tend to my wife," Ron mumbled looking straight ahead.
"Or let her tend to you …" Neville smirked.
Harry snorted.
"No, that will be me," he said, pushing them over leaning into Neville. "Hermione is all in a dither down there, Ron."
"I know," the other man breathed.
Neville was frowning and Ron quirked an eyebrow at him, suddenly worried that talking about their wives upset him.
"This isn't fair," Neville grumbled.
"What's that?" Harry asked, looking at him over the rims of his glasses for they had slipped to the tip of his nose again.
Neville made a look between disgust and boredom.
"I got tended to by two men."
Harry apologized pushing up his spectacles again and cursing the obviously broken nose pieces while Ron laughed and ruffled Neville's already disheveled hair.
"At least we're cute," the red-head laughed, planting a kiss on the top of Neville's head. Neville made another disgusted face and pushed him, stumbling toward the door. Harry shook his head with a stupid smile and patted Neville's shoulder as he, too, made for the door.
"Get some rest, Neville," he said simply, shoving a giggling Ron out of the room and shutting the door behind him.
Neville sighed and flopped back on the bed, his legs still hanging over the side. Last night was still vivid in his memories, but he didn't really think about the fighting or the pain.
He thought about her and he smiled.
She had been there when he'd fallen.
Neville had seen her and she had spoken to him. Luna had touched him.
*Ron knelt next to him and was trying to stop the bleeding.
"You have to hold it together just a moment more. You know the plan," he had said*, but Neville didn't hear him.
"Hello, Neville," was what he heard. She was there, kneeling on his other side with her sad smile and her blue eyes twinkling.
"You have to stay, honey," she whispered and he forgot about his wound.
*"I don't think I can," Neville said softly*, longing to hold her again.
*"You have to; we can't do this without you," Ron told him, shaking and glancing over his shoulder at Harry.*
Luna nodded, "You have to."
*"I can't…" he said again.
"Get up! You don't have a choice!" Ron demanded.*
"I'm waiting for you," his wife said, reaching out and touching his face.
*"Just let me…"* All Neville wanted to do was follow her, and not make her wait anymore. He didn't want to wait anymore.
*"NO! Get up!" Ron shouted forcing him to sit up.
Neville gasped in pain and clenched his hands into fists, gripping his wand.
"Ron…stop. I need…rest," he begged*, looking into his wife's eyes, pleading with her as well.
*"You can rest soon, just hold on a little longer. For me. Hold on for me. For your girls, they need you."*
"Take care of Ivy and Lotus, Neville. I'll wait for you all, but you have to stay."
The woman stood and peered down at him.
*"Luna…" he muttered gaining strength.
"Yes, hold on for her, she'd want you to finish this," Ron agreed, bracing his friend's arm around his neck and preparing to stand.*
Luna watched as Ron struggled at bringing Neville to his feet. Once to his feet, he made eye-contact with her and she winked.
"I'm always here. I'm waiting for you. I love you," was the last thing she said before Ron pulled Neville to Harry's side.
The man on the bed touched his cheek where he'd felt her soft fingertips hours before and drifted to sleep, her scent still hanging around his head.
* * *
He awoke to Lotus and Ivy on either side of him, frowning at the bandage.
"There's my babies," he whispered, and they looked at him with wide eyes. They looked so much like their mother, even at this age, that he almost cried just seeing them. They both buried their faces in his shoulders and he hugged them.
Hermione had found a clean shirt for him by the time he woke up and she gave it to him as the girls dragged him out of the bedroom. Ron insisted he and the girls spend the day with them, and, seeing as Harry had taken Ginny and Lily home soon after he had fallen asleep, he accepted.
Everyone was in high spirits. It was the dawning of a new day, they believed. Voldemort had met his match in Harry, Ron and Neville and had been defeated.
Ron could be seen grinning for no real reason at anything and everything and Neville found himself tormented by one of Ron's surprise kisses to the top of the head on more than one occasion. All the kids thought this was more than giggle-worthy and Ron drew encouragement from them.
"I can't help it if I'm happy. Plus," he said, ruffling Neville's hair for the umpteenth time that day, "I've always wanted a little brother."
Neville reached up to fix his hair, but dropped his hand, giving up.
"I'm not that much younger than you."
"I don't care if you're two seconds younger than me, it still makes you littler than me," Ron informed him, pinching Hermione's backside as he passed her.
"Ron!" she growled through clenched teeth, smiling a little.
Neville rolled his eyes. Meshach ran to him and tugged on his sleeve.
"Unca Nefful," the boy said and Neville smiled at the red-haired toddler.
Ron grinned again as Neville turned in his seat and leaned forward, elbows on his knees.
"What's on your mind, kiddo?"
Meshach didn't reply, but held out a flower to his uncle which promptly kissed Neville on the nose.
"Thanks, I needed that," the man smiled, tapping the boy's nose and ruffling his hair, the flower still clinging to him. Meshach laughed and leaned against Neville. Hermione took the blossom off her friend's face and put it in a glass of water.
"The kids have been in love with those since the girls gave them those two a few months ago."
"They're nice," Neville agreed, picking Meshach up and putting him in his lap. "Have they multiplied, then?"
"Multiplied?" Ron laughed. "They've started a colony!"
"They do that, I meant to tell you. When the stems intertwine they grow together and new stems begin to form out of the old ones."
The child in his arms seemed to be unsure of the extra padding around his uncle's midsection and prodded it.
"Meshach," Hermione scolded, "Stop poking your uncle."
Ron snorted and Meshach let his head fall into Neville's chest.
"And don't pout," she continued. "Where are the girls?"
There was an excited squeal and the pounding of little feet as Mab streaked passed the kitchen entryway. Ron nearly fell out of his chair with mirth, slapping a hand on the table. Neville laughed, but tried not to when he saw Hermione's look of horror. Meshach scrambled down and out of the room.
"It's that name! If you would call her Persephone she wouldn't be so … so … you!" Hermione accused. Neville found this a little far-fetched.
"What?! When have I ever ran through the house starkers?" he asked, tears coming to his eyes.
Hermione folder her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow.
"Don't answer that," Ron said sternly, standing up, laughter gone. "I'll go find her."
Neville shuddered and wished he'd missed that exchange.
"Please do, before Meshach …"
She was interrupted by a giggling Meshach running passed the doorway already in the buff, followed by his sister.
"I'm going, I'm going," Ron said, holding up a hand as Hermione opened her mouth to speak before he disappeared into the house calling for his children
"Where are my daughters?" Neville asked, suddenly aware of their absence.
He was answered when Ivy and Lotus ran into the kitchen and latched onto his legs, squealing and gurgling. Meshach chased after them, but before he got far, Ron reappeared with Mab under one arm and snatched him up.
"Oh, no you don't," the man told the boy, standing straight. "A bit of a flirt, this one." With that, he turned and carted the naked children upstairs to be redressed.
Hermione sighed and Neville gave her a sympathetic look.
"I love my husband more than anything, but he's a bad influence on the children."
Neville frowned, "Surely, you don't mean he's …"
"Oh, no!" she cut in before he could finish. "I meant in the genetic sense. The Weasley in the children makes them do the oddest things."
Neville agreed with this, though he was sure Hermione would not have had it any other way.
* * *
It was dark by the time Neville took his daughters home, and after the day they'd had, he wasn't surprised to find them yawning and rubbing their eyes. They had gotten too big for their old crib so he'd found a child's bed that wasn't much taller than a mattress on the floor. Ivy and Lotus were sound sleepers and didn't move much, so he had no fear of them rolling off, nor would they get out of bed until he woke them, so there would be no running about the house before he got up.
He laid them side by side in the bed and tucked them in, sitting on the floor and petting their hair as they fell asleep. Neville watched them for few more moments after they'd drifted off before going to his room and climbing into his own bed. He laid on his back for a moment, thinking about his daughters and his friends. Looking to his left and the empty bed beside him, he thought about Luna.
Neville rolled over onto her side of the bed and took a deep breath. Her fragrance of strawberries was always there, and, before, he didn't know if it was magic or if it was his imagination. Now, though, he knew it was her, and that she was there. He smiled and closed his eyes.
Feeling eyes on him, he prayed that she would be there again when he opened them and gasped when he saw that she was.
Only she wasn't.
Neville smiled at the two pairs of twinkling blue eyes that belonged to his daughters.
"I thought you were sleeping," he whispered, surprised some by the fact that they actually got out of bed.
"Wote up," Lotus told him, simply.
"Sleep wif you," Ivy put in.
Neville pulled his daughters up and into the bed, giving them room by moving back to his side. He held them both with one arm and kissed their foreheads.
"I love you," he told them quietly, and they were asleep in minutes. He closed his eyes and thought of Luna again; how she couldn't be there, but gave him the closest thing.
'I love you, too, Luna.'
©2004 – Roxanne L. Martin, Writings From Behind The Red Door