August 1839 Baltimore, Maryland, United States of America

At the least she wasn't his problem. He refused to let Sarah become his problem. But at the same time Micheal felt responsible since he'd been the one to bring a young girl from Pittsburgh to the Point. It was sort of on him. Or at least he thought so.

It was why he kept tabs on her even though he had his own life, his own friends, and didn't have time for a little farmer's daughter with too much spunk. That was what he told himself at least. Sam needled him about it when he heard about Sarah getting into fist fights with their brothers, or cat fights with their sisters. It was normal behavior. Such close proximity to one another eventually bred conflict and while they would fight they would never do so to harm. They weren't in to really hurting each other, they were brothers, they were family. Better then the family Sarah had had back in Pittsburgh obviously, or she wouldn't have followed Micheal home for three days without food or water.

Sometimes Sam joked that Micheal was like her big brother. At the least he was sort of like a benefactor. His mother helped Sarah sometimes, showed her what to do, how to move. He was okay with being Sarah's big brother, especially when he was at the Point and she'd bound up to him while he was still on Clipper's back, barely having gotten home from a mission involving this or that and had a million questions. It was sort of nice actually, he was an only child after his father had died, and his mother had never remarried, he liked having a little sister.

Except no real big brother ever looked at their little sister like Micheal was starting to look at Sarah. He was almost four years her senior but when she started to come into her womanhood; he noticed. He couldn't not notice. She was gorgeous, her hair long, and she put it into intricate braids around her scalp, with big eyes, a long, slender, neck, skin the color of cream, and a mind that was sharper then a knife. She didn't put up with people, especially men, looking down on her just because she was a woman. Meaning she fit in perfectly with the rest of their sisters.

He found his eyes following after her more and more as she filled out her curves (and they were rather ample) and Sam would laugh at him and he'd slap his hands over his eyes to stop himself. Sarah was his sister. She also wasn't his problem. He shouldn't be thinking about doing some of the things he wanted to do with who he thought of as his sister. She didn't seem to notice, and treated him like always.

She was seventeen when he realized she didn't actually treat him like her brother anymore. He'd been sort of dancing around the fact that he was attracted to her for years, reminding him it wouldn't work. He, honestly, was often annoyed by her. But she also made him happy, and he wanted that. Sarah didn't really treat him like a brother anymore though, and it took Sam pointing it out to him for him to notice. They were just comfortable around each other and often would spend all day together, doing nothing, or he'd try (and fail) to teach Sarah to skip rocks, or fish with her hands, and she'd try (and fail) to teach him how to sew, or wrap a strained wrist. She was gentle, fiery, but gentle too.

A man named Dylan Murray got him to act. Dylan thought Sarah was beautiful too, and he was the same age as Sarah. Micheal had to take a step back before he actually did stab Dylan in the chest like Sam always joked he looked about to when he saw the younger man courting her. That didn't last long though because he didn't like Dylan and he liked Sarah and really they weren't siblings. There had been more then a little shock and surprise around the Point when Micheal made his not so brotherly affections known.

At least it was a surprise and shock to everyone except Sarah.

Of course she'd seen it coming. He didn't know why he thought she'd be surprised. He'd yet to actually ever surprise her in anything, even if she sometimes pretended to do so to 'protect his fragile male ego', whatever that meant.

The first time they kissed was a surprise, because she kissed him and it just… had sort of happened. He wasn't even sure how when he thought about it, they'd just kinda fallen into it. In fact they'd just sort of fallen into everything really, including their romance and eventually marriage, something Micheal never thought he'd do, let alone to Sarah, that farmer's daughter from Pittsburgh who didn't know how to take care of herself and too much pride to listen to anyone and was always off climbing trees and getting lost in the woods and making his life difficult.

Hawk thought about all of that when he stood next to the casket.

He could feel the two others at the back of the church, watching him. He hadn't seen them much after the first decade, they let him find his own way, once they told him what he needed to know.

She was still beautiful, in her coffin, even though she was old, her hair silver and long around her shoulders. They'd flushed her cheeks and lips, which was funny, since she hated makeup, and never wore any. There were fine lines around her mouth and eyes from a life of smiling and her hands were resting on her chest. He didn't see the old woman in front of him though. He could still see her, young and beautiful and full of love and life.

He felt nothing though. A shadow of a memory of feeling. Honestly he shouldn't have even been there, as it was he was the last person there. The others had gone. He'd seen his son, Micheal II, and his family. His son was going to be a grandfather himself soon, his eldest daughter round with child.

Carefully, gently, Hawk reached out and stroked his fingers across Sarah's forehead, brushing back her hair. "Goodbye my love," he said softly and leaned over the edge of the casket and kissed her icy lips. "I'll find a way to see you again, I promise," he said, his voice gave away nothing. He didn't even hurt. Now he knew why the other two called it a curse, why they grew attached to nothing and no one.

Life was suffering and eternal life was eternal suffering.