A/N: Burning Black Interlude poll open on my profile. Just for the sake of curiosity.

Burning Black Interlude

Sanjay

Collide - Skillet

I check the area quickly, furtively, searching for danger. All is clear. Not a soul in sight.

Emerging from my hiding spot within the shop, I make my way down the street, darting from shadow to shadow. It is dark, so my cover is very good tonight, if not absolute. This is most welcome, as I do not want to be discovered yet.

There is a package in my hands and I wish for it to be delivered unharmed. If I should run into one of those many brutes that prowl the streets....

No, I cannot think of such things. That is what they want and I shall not give them what they want. I will keep my hope alive! But... it is so very hard to do in this city.

Everywhere, everywhere, there are fights and cries of misery and pain and suffering. It is most depressing. Children make their wishes to the heavens, but they are never answered. I know why, and it brings me such pain to know that my voice is often among them, my wish also goes unheard.

But, I have begun to let go of that. He would not want me to be so sad. He is my hope and my light, as he was the hope and light for everyone here. Deep down, I have his memory and all of the joys that he had brought us are stored there, to be drawn upon when the sadness threatens to overwhelm me.

It has been so long, though. The memories are fading, and that most rude boy is attempting to usurp his title. And I can see through his scheme; the Heart is gone and he wishes to take his place and poison us even further with his false joy. I am most indignant at this.

Careful, careful. I am almost there.

I hold my treasure closer. It is all I can afford for tonight. I must earn my allowance, and I spend more time with the Others in their pursuits than in my chores. But I have saved and counted and I have purchased my offering. One more in a long line of offerings.

--

I am here.

Dimmsdale Cemetery. He rests there now.

In this city, we are all quite stupid. It is something of a curse and a blessing all in one. Because we do not 'know', we are able to 'feel' much more easily, and emotions rule us all quite strongly. Frustration, anger, jealousy, lust, greed, these are only a few of the emotions and feelings that Dimmsdale can tune itself to and our behaviors reflect this. But hidden beneath that, around that, within that, was happiness. Joy. Love. Optimism.

Hope.

This was the power of the Heart of Dimmsdale, the one who radiated these feelings in a brilliant aura that touched the lives of all people here. As long as we had the Heart, Dimmsdale had hope and it would live and breathe and exist another day.

And then that most tragic day occurred and we lost the Heart. We lost his magic and his blessings and Dimmsdale began to die. Ah, the adults do not know this because they are most stupid and fell to despair that much more quickly, but the children felt it through their waning happiness. They struggle every day to hold onto what remains of their joy but with each day their wishes go unheard, that joy begins to fade as well.

It is my honest belief that, now, only the Others maintain our clarity of minds. This is because we all agree on one thing; our beloved Timmy Turner did not just die from an accident. There is simply no reason for it. He was incapable of taking fatal injury, almost as though he were shielded by some unseen force that halted immediate danger before it reached him. It could not have abandoned him that day he climbed the jungle gym, although he did look somewhat guilty and worried during school.

So, whatever it was that led to his death was not his fault, and it was no accident. Chester believes this, I believe this, the rest of the Others agree that Timmy's death was most controversial, but it was not until Chester convinced A.J. to create the scenario simulator that we all saw that the 'accident' could not be explained by fact and physics and science. And it is my belief, right to the heart of my soul, that only a power greater than Timmy's ability to bring life to Dimmsdale stole his life away. Something more happened, but I do not know what.

The marker is just ahead of me. I approach it in my most solemn march, for it is customary to be honored in the presence of such a beloved one. Already his grave is covered with gifts, and my own offering seems so meager and plain in comparison. Nonetheless, I place it down gently beneath his name.

A small prayer to ask for his forgiveness in failing to protect him and for his blessing in seeking the answer to our question, and I am ready to continue on my way. I turn from the grave and begin to walk away, when the wind suddenly seems to pick up and I hear a voice call to me, familiar and at the same time, not.

"Hey, you remembered what today was! Thanks!"

I spin around in alarm; had I not checked this area thoroughly enough?! Had I overlooked some threat to my self in this cemetery, or worse still, a threat to my dear Heart's grave?! Who spoke those words and possessed knowledge of this day?

Fearing for the safety of the tombstone, I run back to the little grave and examine it carefully. There is no damage, and everything is as pristine as when I arrived... only....

My gift is gone.

Today is the day that I first met Timmy when he had been voted school president. He had wanted to be part of the Library Assistance Club, of which I had been leader, but it resulted in his immediate dismissal from office, which he did not seem to miss at all. It had been quite scandalous, but after all was said and done, Timmy had thanked me for my help in his escape and offered friendship to me, which I had been sorely lacking because of my status as 'Foreign Child'. It was then that I became an Other, and I loved him most of all the Others for first extending friendship to me.

The gift I had purchased and which had been taken was a Timmy Bear that I had requested to be made with a presidential button and jacket, in honor of that day.

There was a gift left behind in its place. A 'Vote for Timmy' button that had been made during his run for election, and had never been made again since then. I collect it and study it, a sense of calm and comfort seeming to surround my self as I hold it.

Could it be? Could it be that this exchange was from...?

....

I place the button in my pocket and leave the grave behind once more. My faith has rewarded me with the strength to go on; somehow, someway, Timmy will continue to bless us all with his love and hope. We must continue in his honor and discover what truly took place that day. It is only then that he will have peace and we can begin to rebuild our hearts.

The End