Through the frantic crowd which he viewed from the safety of behind the tree, he could recognize nobody. He didn't recognize any of the exhibits, and in the frenzy he didn't even see any night guard. No Larry. No one. The exhibits that were running were all over the place, and after a few moments he noticed how they began disappearing. It was like something he had never seen before. Terrified, he stayed behind the tree until silence fell over the scene, and finally stepped out into the open.
There was nothing but burnt ashes, and mountains of rubble, and the bleary darkness of the sky, the stars blackened out, setting forth a mood of despair as the Roman scanned the wreckage. This was his home. And it was now gone. There were no exhibits in the area, except for the few poor souls who lay on the ground, in their own death-like state that was all too real of a threat to them all. Motionless statues, still, empty eyed wax figures, animals that lay frozen stiff, their once beating hearts stuffed now with cotton and their gazes transfixed on nothing in particular.
The fire still blazed. He kept a good distance away from it, watching as it burned away the last of his once beloved home. He explored cautiously the unlit wreckage, finding charred artifacts and dead, wax bodies of the exhibits everywhere he went. Then, from underneath a pile of ceiling tiles, he heard a soft groan, and hesitantly stepped forwards.
At first, he saw nothing. But then he felt his foot kick something dark and light, and reached down to touch the soft leather of a Stetson. Puzzledly, he picked it up, and examined it by the fire light. It was dark brown and slightly ragged with wear. He realized with a jolt that it was Jedediah's. When another soft groan met his ears, he turned slowly and looked around, clutching the garment in his hands as fear slowly gripped his heart. Surely the cowboy couldn't be here. He was with the Doctor. Had he missed something…..?
Just then, he spotted a figure lying nearby, and his eyes widened as recognition swept through him.
"Jedediah!" He cried, rushing forwards. He reached his friend and knelt down, just as his eyes opened with a jolt and he gasped into consciousness.
"H-Help…" Jedediah yelled weakly, trying to move but unable to as his legs were trapped beneath the pounds of rubble which had fallen on him.
"Jedediah! I am here!" The Roman said urgently, trying to push the wreckage off his friend.
"S-Somebody h-help…!" The cowboy screamed again, fighting against the weight that pinned him down.
"It is okay, I am here-"
"He can't hear you, Octavius," A voice said suddenly, from somewhere above him.
Octavius looked up, and saw the dark figure of a man standing above him. The voice was familiar, but he couldn't tell who it was. He turned back to his friend and continued trying to calm and comfort him, but his attempts were futile.
Again, the man spoke. "I'm so sorry. He can't hear you."
Indeed, when the cowboy's desperately pleading eyes landed on him, they were unseeing and he continued yelling, crying for help as the sun began to rise on the horizon. Octavius knew what happened next. He knew, and he looked away as the sun's rays stretched towards the struggling cowboy. There was a cry, and then, silence. He stood very still, refusing to look at what his friend had become- a small pile of dust on the ground. He felt an aching in his heart, but something told him not to mourn the loss, which made no sense to the poor Roman.
"It's okay," The man said, kneeling down on one knee. Octavius took the chance to look up, and what he found was almost as startling as the cowboy's sudden demise.
The man was old, not too old, but his hair was now grey and his face riddled with a few wrinkles around his smile line. He was still in good shape, surprisingly, and his uniform, old and tattered, still bore the marks of his authority. He was very there. He was very real. He was very...Larry.
"By the gods...Larry...?" He asked, stumbling a step back.
The old man smiled, a sad, but still cheerful smile, and lay his hand along the ground for the Roman to step on. He did so, hesitantly. "It's about time you came back," The old night guard said, raising his hand to eye level.
Octavius, a little confused, thought for a moment, trying to figure out what his old friend meant. "Have- how long, have I been gone?"
"Almost fifteen years," Larry replied, appearing to count under his breath.
"Fifteen...!"
The night guard nodded forlornly, and sighed. "We'd all thought you were dead. When that Doctor guy came back, he only had Jed with him, and he told us you'd been killed. We didn't expect you to come back."
For a moment Octavius was puzzled, then said slowly, cautiously, "I...I was dead...but I am alive...and I am no longer in the Underworld, so I must be living..." Then, another thought entered his mind, and he turned immediately towards where his friend had been sun struck, and said urgently. "What about Jedediah? Why did you not help him?"
A frown appeared on the night guard's face, and he sighed. "He wasn't really there, Octavius."
"B-But surely he has to have been...he was no where near here when I saw him last...he was in a big city, in the 5000s..."
Larry shook his head, and sighed again, turning to walk away with the Roman in his hand, obviously not wanting to discuss the question further. "You're supposed to be dead," He said simply, shrugging. "But you're here. And if there's one thing I've learned in all my years, you don't argue with a miracle."
"Wait," Octavius said, not wanting the conversation to end just yet. He wanted answers. "If Jedediah is not here, then who wasn that?"
"Jedediah." Larry answered, turning down a small road that lead to an old apartment complex.
"But you just said he was not here!"
"He isn't. But his image and memory are."
"What is that supposed to mean?" Octavius questioned.
Larry closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply through his nose before speaking. "You saw how the museum was burning, right?"
Octavius nodded, and waited for the night guard to continue.
"It happened so many years ago..." He whispered, closing his eyes again. Octavius could feel him shiver, and patted his palm comfortingly, unsure and a little frightened about what was upsetting his old friend. "When we got the news of your death, it was like a sock in the face. The Doctor, the one who took you two away from me, said it had been Jedediah who'd killed you. I didn't believe it, but when Jed confirmed, I could never look at him the same way again. That Doctor, he offered to help us, but I refused. I never trusted him. After he left, Jed grew sullen and quiet. He never spoke, and he stayed in his exhibit. Years later, there was an invasion."
"Invasion?" Octavius questioned, hoping to get more answers. He needed to know what was happening.
"Yes. I don't know what they were, I still don't. But Kahmunrah led them. For over a month they ravaged the earth, killing everyone in their path. Myself and the exhibits held our own for a while, the museum protected by the Tablet. But there was something helping Kahmunrah. Something more powerful- the magic that guarded us for so long was ripped down, and they swarmed us from all sides...they killed everyone. Teddy, Attila, Dexter, Sacagawea...Kahmunrah took Ahkmenrah away...I don't know what happened to him...and Jed...he made sure of his death. I had to watch." There was a long pause, in which Larry put a hand over his eyes for a moment, and then said in a shaky voice. "He didn't kill me. He let me live. And as a punishment for everything- our resistance, beating him in DC, everything- he cursed me, so that everyday I may watch the museum burn, and everyday I may witness the final moments of those I cared for. It hurts, seeing this every day."
"If it hurts you so, why do you come?"
"I come, to keep my promise. I promised to forever guard this museum. And I failed. So I must suffer with the exhibits I have lost." There was another silence, and then Larry smiled slightly, looking down at the little Roman. "I guess it's a good thing I camed today. I have something else to believe in."