Every end is a new beginning

Hiya everyone! I came back finally.

I got a bit more time on my hands, so I thought I might as well submit something…

I wish -.-

Actually, im full with work. Have no time for anything. But this story just wouldn't let me be.

I got this idea when I was looking at arts of the Brotherhood members on deviantart.

I know I m most likely wrong at some point (didn't read archie comics, just articles about the characters)

So here is a one-shot.

Oh yes, and: R&R please. Tell me what you think. Even if it is only a word. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters. But I own the story!

xXx

Morning.

This simple word brought a silent groan, almost mistakable for a sigh from the bundle on the bed.

The thought of this simple word, and the recognization of it being there wasn't as pleasant to the grumpy creature. You couldn't say it's tired, more like displeased with it.

The covers didn't move. The being still fought to open its eyes. It was so much work… in its age that is.

How old?

279?

Hmm… Too old…

Slowly, blood red orbs made themselves known in the darkness with another grunt, as if this simple action required strength. The owner just continued to stare at the ceiling. At least what he could recognize from it. His sight wasn't the same anymore. The red eyes were slightly faded, age taking its toll on it, messing with him.

Just like it did with his body.

He looked to his left. His dark robes were draped on a chair next to his bed, he could make out the outline of it, just like his helmet on the table. He, yet again, stared at it for a little while, seemingly lost to the world, sunk in his own. It took him a while to realize what he needed to do.

A muffled yawn escaped his lips, most of his teeth were missing, his tongue a bit pale.

No wonder really. He was the oldest echidna alive after all.

None of his ancestors lived as long as he. But what made him special to suffer such fate he didn't know.

To Spectre, this age wasn't a blessing as everyone else viewed it to be.

He hated it how it made him so weak. So dependant on others… so blind… and so sick.

Age is nothing to cherish in his opinion. He even lost his son to it. Outlived him… His own son… No father should ever live through this agony, seeing their own flesh and blood struggle to stick to the world of the living… like Thunderhawk had… in vain. He lost his very last battle against the greatest forces of life. Death itself.

Sometimes he just wished to close his eyes and let death claim him. To cease his suffering… His aching body, mind and heart.

But what made him fight on, was the fact, that his remaining sons needed him. Of course he knew they could manage without him just well though...

When he realized that his body isn't the same anymore, he wanted to follow the path of Guardian Mathias. Shedding his corporeal form, and meditate away in his own dimension. Silently… peacefully… Waiting for his time to come.

But they just wouldn't bear to loose him. They wouldn't let him go. They want him to stay… to keep leading them… to be their support in this uncertain world full of peace and danger of a new war…

Like he knew what to do in every situation. Yet, this new life they gained, free of the threat of the great war, the dingoes and the Dark Legion was alien to him as well. It made him uneasy… cautious.

A clang in the corridor suddenly broke his train of thoughts, and he realized that he was yet again only staring away…

With staring you won't get anything done, do you…

He grit his teeth -at least what remained of them- and with the support of his shaky and skinny elbows, he managed to sit up. He huffed, and cursed his weak body and his age at the same time. It ruined him. Completely.

Spectre looked over his body, winking his eyes a bit, struggling to at least try and see something.

His black fur was matted with grayish strands, the ends of his dreadlocks were almost white now. His body lost all its glory… his muscles nearly all vanished… eaten away by the ages and lack of exercise. Wrinkles decorated his face… He was skinny… something he wasn't surprised about.

He always enjoyed a good meal back then. A good breakfast with scrambled eggs, bacon… a cup of strong coffee and nothing could stand in his way for the day. That was back then… For 10 years now the mentioning of food brought distaste to his mouth. A foul taste… He didn't desire food anymore… His stomach would always twist, turn, and he would struggle for hours to make sure it stayed down. The others -mostly Athair- always had to force the food on him. Practically suffocating him with it.

He shuddered.

-Oh the torture-

A sick twist in his stomach told him the unwanted food will arrive soon.

As he grabbed his robes, and struggled to dress up, taking small breaks every now and then, he shook his head. It always amused him how his body and mind memorized the timetable. Well it wasn't a surprise either... nothing new happened after all.

Always the same monotonous activities…

Get up, dress, Athair comes with breakfast, struggle with digesting, stare away in his room for hours, then drag himself in the meditation chamber, meditate away for hours again until Athair returned with another serving of torture. Struggle with digesting again while he made his way back to his room, then bathe and go to bed. Then everything starts again.

He grabbed his helm, and shakily lifted it. He barely could hold it anymore and always ended up dropping it on his head. Like now.

The others always insisted he let his clothing go especially that heavy helmet. But he was one of the most stubborn beings on the world. Well almost… he at least left his cape in his closet for a while now. He wanted them to think they have won this argument but reality was… it was too much of a struggle now to put even that on…

He winked his eyes again, trying to locate something -of course he absolutely rejected the idea of glasses.

There it is.

It was standing right next to his bed. He sighed sadly, as he wiggled around, sitting halfway on his bed. He lifted his tired body, and with a last shove he sat in his wheelchair.

His legs wouldn't carry him anymore. First, he used a cane much like the one Athair is using… but it was only a temporary solution. 10 years ago, when his health has gone down rapidly, his legs completely gave way. Spectre wasn't thrilled about the idea of spending the rest of his life in this thing.

But what else is there to do?

If he wanted to move about… and at least show his sons he is still the same unrelenting, stubborn and strong Spectre he was. The same support he was many years ago. The same black, demonic Spectre, who laughed in the face of death many times before.

Reality is however… this demonic Spectre got old. Though, he is still fighting, he is ever so slowly loosing. Death is a great force of nature. It overcomes you no matter what. No matter how strong you are, it just simply waits, and destroys your body from the inside. Then attacks when you least await it. Grabs you… and won't let you go. Not until you surrender. Then it lets go that suffocating grip and you breathe out in relief… this breath is your soul.

Spectre grabbed the wheels of his wheelchair, and prepared for the inevitable.

Soon enough, just like his stomach foresaw it… a knock sounded on the door.

"Grandfather Spectre! Breakfast is here!" -Shouted a happy Athair.

The brown echidna has taken the responsibility to take care of him. Give him breakfast, dinner -after much arguments and 'persistence', he convinced them he didn't need lunch… his stomach wouldn't tolerate it… not like it did any food- and he even insisted on bathing him, which Spectre didn't want to hear about.

As long as he can move, he wished to bathe on his own. On his language it meant: never ever think about it! Not even in your dreams!

He groaned as the door opened… more like… swung open and the colorful echidna floated in with a tray in his hands. He made a beeline to his grandfather, placed the object on his lap, then went to the bed, folding the sheets. Something Spectre frequently argued about… he can do this on his own after all.

The smell of food brought his gaze down to the tray on his lap. His stomach twisted yet again, he gulped and looked to the side with disgust. Something the happy-go-lucky echidna noticed.

"Now now grandfather… You need food, what do you think, how will you run around the corridors again if you don't eat?"

Spectre only groaned, and leaned back in his seat, away from the dreaded substance.

"But it's your favorite…" Athair floated to him, then took the fork. "I see I have to help you then." He said cheerfully, ready to suffocate him again as the older one liked to put it.

Half an hour of torture, gasping for air and gagging later the younger echidna left, promising him a delicious dinner.

'Go die…' That was the only thing Spectre could think about as he gripped the wheels, and shakily directed it to the far wall, opposite to the door, stopping every now and then, gathering his strength, and cursing his weakened state for the umpteenth time.

He finally arrived close to it, and winked his eyes; he found the button he was seeking. Pressing on it, the beautiful landscape of Angel Island appeared, as if he was staring out of a window. He closed his tired eyes halfway and let his body relax.

Finally. Peace and quiet. How he liked it.

The screen was installed by the Brotherhood's oldest scientist, Edmund, who was Knuckles' grandson, after it was certain that Spectre can't move around as much anymore. It was a birthday present from 8 years ago. When he saw it he doubted it would help… A simple screen, showing images via cameras from around the island…

But oh it did. He didn't feel as closed in anymore, plus he could switch the screen anytime he wanted. Just push a button, which wasn't as easy to miss. Even without focusing he could make out the big red button under the centre of the wide-screen monitor.

While he stared at the screen, his thoughts started to wander again. Something it did too many times lately. Even though his body was worn down, his mind was as awake and sharp as it was when he was young. It wasn't affected by age much to his surprise. He thought he will be forgetful, sleepy and the grumpiest of the Brotherhood. In the last aspect, his tenth daughter outdid him…

The Brotherhood… more like the Guardians of Haven -as they renamed it after some daughters joined in-, has grown in numbers again. Many generations have passed, something Spectre never dreamed about living through. It's almost time they reveal themselves to his twelfth son.

Something they planned for his 280th birthday.

He wondered if he will live so long…

Every day is a struggle. Every day he felt like he was weaker and weaker.

He was useless to the Guardians, to Haven… He had to admit… he would never be able to support his sons and daughters in battle… Headaches were now a constant problem, sometimes distracting him.

With that he involuntarily lifted his hands and pressed them against his aching temples. They were so frequent now, that if he didn't think about them he didn't realize they hurt. Not able to hold his hands longer he had to lower them again, huffing silently. Even this very simple gesture has cost so much energy.

So old… so weak.

The only use he has now is telling stories to his children of his younger days. About the many fights… horror stories… which were true. Advices, a helping hand in dealing with complex problems, giving away knowledge gathered through almost 3 centuries…

And preparing the future Leader of the Guardians.

Sabre.

The now 175 years old echidna proved himself in many tight situations to Spectre. He was wise, patient and had the skill to calm down any raging echidna, breaking up fights, preventing brawls and had a neat honorable and diplomatic side.

Something they need in a good Leader.

With his death, the next in line for the Elder rank will be his second son, Sojourner. However, knowing him, the red echidna won't take up leadership. He doesn't like hard work after all. Athair will refuse as well. He already expressed it openly. He doesn't consider himself worthy for the task.

That leaves Sabre. He either didn't know about him being the next appointed Leader, or simply he didn't show it. He surely knew… Spectre spoke to him more, gave him advice in leadership and even let him handle some of the tasks. So far so good. He will be able to handle Haven.

This realization brought some kind of peace to his mind. Something, he didn't know troubled him for years was just lifted from his worn shoulders.

They will manage without him. He had done his share of work.

The only thing left to do is waiting.

But not for long.

He felt something he didn't feel for long years. Warmth spread through him… Comforting warmth, starting from his fingertips, it moved up and spread out, making him sleepy, he relaxed.

Suddenly, a flash of blinding light appeared, forcing him to close his eyes. He wanted to shield them as well, it was so intense… but his hands wouldn't move… couldn't move. He was tired. So tired… But it was just morning… wasn't it?

When the light lost some of its intensity, he cracked open an eye. It was right in front of him. Coming from the screen.

'Something happened?' He was first worried about the island. But what he saw next left him gasping in surprise and awe.

Something… something moved in the center on the light… He winked his eyes to try and see better. That something moved more, and soon revealed the outline of a person, making its way towards him. Coming closer he could make out dreadlocks… An echidna. Like him.

He opened both eyes as he watched the being move closer to him… then it stopped in front of him.

Spectre just stared at it, not sure what to do.

It was an echidna surely. A young male. Brown fur… Blue eyes… Green clothing…

So familiar. But where did he see him before?

As the unknown stranger smiled at him, Spectre still dug into his memories. With no success.

Then a look at his chest… The letter 'T'…

His eyes first didn't move from the letter, then slowly looked up, finding the right missing piece of that one memory when he was still a toddler…

Tobor.

'Father…'

He wanted to say it out loud. But no matter how much he tried… he couldn't. A lump formed in his throat, he felt his eyes swell with tears, but he didn't let them fall. How long has he waited for this moment? 275 years? Or more? He didn't care. All that he knew, he waited for this very moment for too long. After the fight with the dark legion master, his father wasn't the same again… Back then he thought he hit his head too badly… or his mind got sick. But when they discovered the truth of the swap, he wanted to see Tobor again. One more time. To see that this swap was real and the real one would be there for him no matter what.

'Father…' He tried again. He couldn't talk, it wouldn't come out loud… But in his mind, it resonated from the walls.

Something told him though, that his father heard it anyway. The echidna smiled sadly at him, and his eyes glinted with an emotion he couldn't quite grasp. Or did he read his mind? It could be very well possible. No one knew about what happens with anyone or what abilities they get from the afterlife. All they know, is that Guardians don't die just simply so. They continue to exist. Watching over their children, guiding them if needed and becoming one with the chaos force, they give them strength.

Another thought came to his mind at this. His father came here for something. For someone…

Him.

'So it's time…' He thought, and suddenly, with this realization… his body relaxed completely, leaning back against the back of his wheelchair, his head slightly leaning forward… As if preparing for what is to come…

Somehow he felt relieved…

All these years… his body struggled to live. It was battered, worn out, his mind yearned for peace which just his silent and dark room failed to give. Something… that is only an arm's length away.

No words were spoken.

Tobor extended his hand towards him. Calling him. Gently… as if he had a choice. As if it's his own decision to make if he joined him… But the decision was made the moment he appeared.

Spectre glanced at the hand, then looked up at his father's face with worry. Worried for his children…

Will they really manage? Will they be alright without him? Will Sabre take good care of them?

He searched his father's face for answers.

Tobor only continued to smile, but his eyes held reassurance.

They will manage. They will be alright, and Sabre will take good care of them. After all… it was him, who led them for so many years he couldn't count… He was the one preparing Sabre for the future to come, for the responsibilities and tasks.

Looking down for a second, he reached out to his sons and daughters through their chaos link. The daily routine, he usually did in the afternoon. Checking up on each and every echidna in Haven, this time even the one on Angel Island. He can't be there when the continued existence of his ancestors will be revealed to the young one after all…

He was sure that the youngest felt the connection with an unknown being, the sudden feel of security, familiarity, something one feels when a family member holds contact with them. After receiving positive answers, he cut the connection with them…

For the very last time.

Feeling satisfied and content, the aged graying echidna raised his hand, and reached out towards his father, arm shaking and struggling. Tobor took his hand gently, even if he was a ghostly figure, Spectre felt his hand on his.

Then he pulled…

First, he looked up with fear. His legs can't carry him anymore… He will fall, or will his father hold him up? He is too far away for that… isn't he?

But then he realized, shocked, that his legs actually seemed firm, carrying his weight with ease… his arms didn't shake anymore as he steadied himself, just like so many years ago… But how?

He got his answer when he looked behind him.

An aged, graying echidna sat in the wheelchair.

Him.

At least his body. It slumped back even more, the faded red eyes closed slowly… The head rolled forward…

His pale skin won back a bit of color… as if it was relieved… as if all the ache was gone… As if he was just asleep…

Spectre was suddenly pulled again. His father was still holding his hand, leading him towards the light. He stared at it for a moment, pondering what will await him… How will it feel like? Will it be the same way he imagined it to be?

That didn't matter to him now.

All that mattered is that he is leaving with a complete life lived, his children well prepared, his job done. His work in this world ended. It's time to leave.

Looking back one more time, a smile appeared on his lips. Not the wicked, twisted one… but a sincere one. Something, no one saw on his face before. And no one ever will…

With that he followed his father into the light to join his ancestors and forefathers in the afterlife. No matter what happens… he will face any danger. For his fathers, for his sons and daughters and for the future generations. He knew it's not going to be easy… the world he is leaving now was but a test. The real challenge is up ahead…

xXx

A knock sounded on the door.

Then when no answer came, a brown echidna with white stripes on his dreadlocks and a monocle peaked inside the room.

Seeing the person he sought in his usual spot at the beautiful scenery of Angel Island, he smiled. He will love the news. It always amused him when something hilarious happened to Athair.

"Grandfather Spectre?" He called for him. He tilted his head as he didn't get an answer… not even a sigh.

'Maybe he is asleep again.' He thought back the many times when his Elder slept through storms and conference meetings lately. But still...

The younger male closed the distance between him and the aged male, then called out again.

"Grandfather. You won't believe what happened to Athair…"

He reached out and shook his shoulder slightly, still smiling.

"Grandfather Spectre?" He tried.

"Grandfather?"

.

Grandfather?

.

avpke