Brave Little Girl

Summary: She never imagined it to be this hard. She'd prepared her whole life to lose them, but it still felt so unexpected.

A/N: Hope you like. Let me know either way. Lyrics below are slightly altered. I stole a little something from Buffy, but I think you'll agree that it fit.

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"You and your brother be brave, my little soldier, and don't forget all that I told you..."

"Mass Destruction" by Faithless

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The wind was cold, blowing around her like an oppressive blanket that she couldn't shed. Wrapping her arms around her waist, she pushed forward as her hair flew out around her. After a minute she spotted the familiar bench and she aimed towards it, ignoring the looks she was receiving from passers by. Their inquiring whispers held no appeal, and she blanked them adeptly; a technique she'd learnt from her parents.

She finally arrived at her destination, the tightening in her chest increasing. It was at that moment she finally let the tears fall. She has suppressed her cries at home; she had comforted her children who were gathering together in their own grief, and her husband whose voice cracked as he mentioned them. She had waited the half an hour drive to finally break down. Her brother, as he'd told her, had visited the day before with his fiance. She could hear his restraint crumbling over the phone as he'd described the pair hugging each other, and softly telling the couple about their lives since they'd gone.

Alice bent down, touching the granite stone with a wary hand, her expression trembling as she read over the familiar words. Thankfully she was standing in the least seen part of the cemetary where no photographers could find her. Or maybe they could, but had for once, allowed her parents and herself to have a moment's peace. Maybe they finally recognised what her parents had done for the world. How many times they'd saved it.

She bent down, disregarding the muddy grass below her as she laid her cheek against the cold stone, "I miss you" she whispered, hoping that they were somewhere, anywhere that they could hear her. She'd never been religious, but when they had died, it was the one moment she believed in heaven. She knew they'd be together wherever they were; they wouldn't have it any other way.

She pulled back, tracing her fingers lightly over the cursive script engraved upon the stone. There were no "flowery words" or meaningful quotes that decorated their gravestone. Neither had wanted to be remembered for more than they did.

"Everyone played their part" Her mother told had her once, many years ago whilst stroking her daughter's hair, "It wasn't just your father and I that made a sacrifice. It was everyone that worked at that base. I just wish someone would recognise that."

In the end, she and Johnny had abided by their parents wishes despite the outrage of the global media. The family had released a statement, telling the world they were standing by their decision because it was what they wanted. So instead the government had erected a memorial to the team, rather than just the pair, and according to Johnny who lived in the city, there were many thousands of visitors a day. She looked back down to the gravestone as she moved to sit on the bench opposite, taking a deep and shuddered breath.

Jonathan Patrick O'Neill

1956-2039

Samantha Kate O'Neill

1968-2039

They Saved The World. A Lot.

Her lip trembled as memories of her apricot-tinted childhood flooded back. Weeks spent at the cabin, faithfully learning how to fish, despite her mom's claims of a lack of anything to catch. A knot formed in her throat as she thought of how she was trying to live without them, trying to remember with smiles instead of sobs. Her children, their beloved grandkids, had helped significantly.

"Mommy," Her eldest son tugged on her shirt, "In class today, our teacher told us about why people die." Alice blanched as he'd told her that, setting aside the dinner she was trying to cook whilst mentally trying to prepare a lecture for her Academy students.

"Rory," She said, her voice soft and quiet, "Didn't she ask you whether you wanted to leave?"

"She did," Rory cast a look downward, "But I wanted to stay. She said that everyone dies. And then she asked how many people had relatives that had died."

"And?"

"Everyone put their hands up," Rory told her, "She asked everyone if they were sad. I said I that I was, but I wasn't at the same time."

"How do you mean?" Alice pulled out a chair, moving to sit down on it as her son did the same.

"I told her that grandma and grandpa are sitting on a cloud," He pointed upwards, "Grandpa is playing baseball with Charlie and Grandma is talking to her mommy." He paused, reaching for her hands "They're happy. I know they are."

"I miss you so much," Alice whispered again, tears now falling freely from her eyes, "I miss talking to you. I want to see you cuddled up on the couch together. I never knew how much I'd miss that."

In the periphery of her vision she could see people pass by her, no doubt exchanging looks and whispered words; "Is that THE Alice O'Neill?" But she ignored them again. "I need my parents," She breathed, "Why aren't you here with me?"

But no answer came.

The End