Author's Note: Sad for this time of year, yes, but I seem to have a knack for that o.O For 15minuteficlets once again, and the word was: 'giving'.
The tiny slip of paper dropped to the floor like a leaf from an ailing tree, twirling for a moment before it crashed silently to the deck. Harsh breathing was heard after a few cruel moments of utter nothingness, and Mina looked into the green eyes, now so filled with sad tears that it broke her heart to see him so distraught.
She turned her head to the man at the Morse machine, who had called for Tom Sawyer, and said simply, "Please leave; close the door and do not come back in until I say so."
The man did as was told, and the clang of the door closing seemed to snap the young American out of his distant reverie. His welled eyes looked into hers, and he sucked in a trembling breath, before saying, "I was always giving her a hard time…"
"Do not worry about such things, Tom. What's past is past, and there is nothing to be done." She wasn't trying to sound harsh, but she needed to make him realise that he was not to blame. He did have the heartbreaking habit of piling guilt on his shoulders until it nearly broke his back.
"I don't understand…"
"Death is a hard thing for us to understand, Agent Sawyer," she explained softly, sympathy in her voice and a slight frown along her flawless brow. "It is not in our nature to comprehend its meanings and complications."
"It's not fair." This new argument nearly shattered the solidity – what little of it there was – in his voice, and he shook his head, one tear falling down his boyish cheek. His blonde hair tumbled around his eyes, and she reached forward to brush it away. His eyes closed tightly, trying to force back the melancholy he no doubt felt, and she sighed as more streams filed down his face. She would have wiped them away had she felt they would do any good; more would simply fall. It was only right to let him cry; to have this release.
"It very rarely is," she whispered soothingly, one hand running down the side of his face and settle there, hoping he would look at her so she could see how he was coping. She had no doubt he was struggling with all of his emotions; part of him probably wanted to scream… the other… who knew?
"But she was fine," he mumbled with a shakiness to his voice that betrayed his inner turmoil and difficulty. "She was healthy; she was laughing… she was alive." He looked into her face, and Mina noted sadly how it almost screwed up in utter misery. "Why her?"
She sighed again. What could she do for him? What could she do for her friend when he needed her the most? "It is cruel, I know… and you feel wronged. Perhaps she had not told you of an illness." Very gently, she said, "You have told me of your Aunt Polly before… she was an elderly woman. It is sad, yes, and it isn't fair, I know… but now… there is no suffering for her."
Tom sobbed once, and hung his head, arms hanging almost limply and lifelessly at his sides. "I wish I could take it all back… everything I ever did to her. All the pranks, and the lies…"
"No, you don't… those are precious memories, and though you think they were hurtful, no doubt she cherished them. She loved you, Tom… as a mother. She cared for you and raised you; gave you a roof over your head, and an education. She helped shape you into the wonderful young man I see before me now. But it hurts… and I understand. And I am sorry… so sorry." Leaning a little closer to him, she said softly, "And you know I am here for you… now and forever. You need never ask for my help, or simply for me to listen. I will always help you, Tom. I will always listen."
And that was when he broke down, the sobs wracking his form as the tears flowed from his eyes. His knees just about gave out on him as Mina pulled him close, and embraced his shaking body, so filled with grief and loss that she felt her own eyes well. She forced them back; lowering them gently to their knees so there would be no danger of him falling. "Ssh," she soothed as she rubbed his back, feeling the shiver there as he clung to her, almost as if she were a lifeline, and letting go would cast him into an abyss from which he could never be saved. "It's all right, Tom… it will be all right. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."
If he spoke then, she could not make out the words, even with her superior hearing, and she frowned. Death was never fair… death always picked the loved ones, and took them away before their time, before those who cared for them were ready to say goodbye.
"I'm here, Tom… I'm here." She closed her tear-filled eyes as she held him close, almost like a child, saddened by his loss and display of such. A strong young man reduced to the sobbing and tears of a child, by such a cruel, harsh reality as death… the death of a loved one.
Death was never fair…
Fin