Shattered Dreams and Broken Hearts
The grass made a silent squish under his feet. It had rained last night, he noticed distantly. The sky still held a grey tint to it and the sun was not out. Everything was quiet. It was fitting.
He hated this place with every fiber in him. Hated it. Loathed it. He wished that he never had to lay eyes on this place. Wished he had never even heard of the place. But he came anyway.
Because… because this was his little brother's final resting place.
He came to a stop at the smooth grey stone. String… His beloved baby brother. The one who never gave up hope that he was still out there. The one who died because of this. If life was fair, if there was a God, String would be standing next to him.
But he wasn't. Instead he was lying in the ground before him.
He could still see the soft smile String had given him in one of his last moments alive.
"Saint John," the voice whispered from the past, a soft tired smile accompanying it. The sound of the hospital and the smell faded into the background when he saw that smile. Nothing else mattered but that smile.
"Hey little brother," his own voice said back, "want to go for one last flight?"
The blinding smile he had received made his heart break all over again…
"Hello Saint John," a quiet voice said from behind him with a faint Texas drawl to it. Saint John smiled slightly. He knew who it was.
"Hello Caitlin," he greeted. He turned to face her, noting the bundle of red roses in her grasp. In his own he grasped a bundle of white roses. "How have you been holding up?"
The woman gave a tiny smile. "Better. I should be asking you that though."
He gave a short bitter laugh. "I've had worse days."
"Hear hear," was the soft agreement, "You still coming out Saturday? Le Van's been looking forward to it."
"Course. I've missed enough of my son's life; I don't want to miss anymore." And God finding out about Le Van had hurt. He was lucky Caitlin was helping him there. There was no way Le Van and he would have half the relationship they had now with her.
She gave him a small smile. "I know."
He smiled back. He could see why his brother had loved this woman. The two had only admitted it when String was dying though. His baby brother had never been good with words. Saint John wished that he had been; at lest then Caitlin would have some memories instead of being cursed with what could have been.
At lest, he comforted himself, they said it. String knew she loved him. That counted for something.
If life was like fairy tales String would not have died. Caitlin and String would have gotten their happily ever after. Saint John would still have his little brother and adoptive father.
Of course life was not a fairy tale.
He bent down and placed his roses before the grave. After he had stood Caitlin did the same with her roses.
He walked away first. Caitlin would go back to Le Van and remember String. He would return to Airwolf and remember his little brother. Both of them, he knew, would be wishing that life was a fairy tale.