A little older…

The words had danced through his mind over and over, a stark reminder of how his morals had gotten in his way. He had sacrificed himself for the divine being that had been intertwined like strings of fate with the Red Archer. Even now, a bottle of alcohol behind, he saw the image of them interlocked in the lids of his eyes. With each attempt to escape, to retreat inside himself, he found it more and more pressing on his mind.

Often, during the Fourth Grail War, Lancer had felt as if he was fighting against the inevitable. His situation wasn't lucky. Instead, he was consistently trying to keep up neutrality; never pulling ahead but approaching the end—overextended, there was no way he could truly surpass and win should his Master (or rather Masters by the end of the Grail War) continue to command him as they had.

A little older…

He had told her, hoping that the slight beg in his tone would have crossed her mind. As he had taken his last breath, he had taken his last memory of her with him, watching her retreat away and committing her to his mind for all eternity. The days after that, eternity in the afterlife, had been spent with thoughts of her from gentle to romantic. He long to run his hands through her hair and trace her cheek with his hand; he longed to pull her hair back and trace the nape of her neck with his tongue. Body and mind were conflicted, yet they knew what they had to do should he ever be given the chance.

That had been squandered, and he had brought the pain upon himself. Somewhere in his mind, he had always been aware of the inconsistently close relationship between the hot-headed princess and her servant. At times where she should have been tough with him, potentially even ended their contract, she had maintained his side and supported him; a part of her being hurt by the idea of betraying him no matter what Lancer had seen him do to her.

Archer…

He had never struck quite right with Lancer. From their first meeting, the servant had been deceptive, and that was all Lancer could attribute to him. Although it was a symptom of hypocrisy, Lancer felt as if Rin had deserved much more from a servant—honesty, loyalty, devotion, and pride in serving her. Every moment watching her long for that from the Red Knight had torn at him inside. When the Knight betrayed her and left her to the whims of the other Servants and Masters, Lancer had felt pain and anger rise through his body. If he had been alive, his temperature would have shot up throughout his body and wash over him. If capable, he would have struck him down at that moment. Instead, he remained loyal to Rin when he had been told to partner with her; although he refused to accept her stubborn belief that she hid inside. Somehow, she still believed the knight to be innocent.

Nights had been spent with Lancer watching over her, sitting quietly outside of her room, entering to check on her every so often. His excuse would have been her protection—since Archer had once been her servant, should he want to assault her, he would have known the key points to attack, so he had to keep a very detailed watch on her. Truth would have shown that he was merely using it as a chance to be around her more. Even sleeping she was more beautiful than any woman he had seen throughout his life. She was innocent in every way, something that was far more obvious when she laid her real self out, sleeping in that bed. Behind the act that she had portrayed, she was lost, scared, and under an unbelievable pressure to protect her lineage and honor her father.

Such a large task for such a young, delicate girl.

He had fallen in love with that attitude. Despite what she should be doing, he felt the pain of her life upon her shoulders by just watching her every day. She was pushing herself for the honor of many, ignoring the gain for herself. As a Tohsaka, she had an obligation to be a world class magician, and she had an obligation to not only try for the Holy Grail but to win it as well.

Lancer closed his eyes. For the first time, the image drifted away from him. What shown there was the image he had wanted: Rin looking down at him, hair draping down her body, freely. Her eyes stared into his soul, and, for the first time in many, many year, he felt bare and honest. His hand extended and reached into that mass of hair, pulling it down to his face and connecting. The immediate electricity and wanting had surged to the surface and pushed forward years of wanting and anticipation. Each delicate touch of her skin, lapse of their mouths over each other, had been to two fold—to show his emotions and wash away all memories of that damnable Red Knight.

Lancer held his eyes closed, refusing to lose the image until he was finally forced back to reality. The park he had sat in had been illuminated by the lights strewn throughout, briefly he thought he heard the sound of someone else walking nearby. Habit struck in, and he felt a panic over the idea of being seen in public.

A servant should stay hidden.

Innate, the thought had crossed his mind and sent adrenaline throughout his system. However, he realized that the rules of the Holy Grail War were long behind him at this time. The reality of his appearance hit him far stronger.

I must look like some drunkard, hiding his shame in the park and the bottle of the bottle.

Although only partially true—his pain was in the bottom of that bottle—Lancer rejected the idea of being discovered as a lonely drunkard. He had opted to walk away from the park bench—a familiar place he suddenly realized—before continuing towards a destination he could make out in the moonlight. The journey was long and somber before he reached the goal, but he felt an odd sensation of relief. Touching the church doors, Lancer could feel the cold of the night and ages of dust be lifted. Inside, the place looked as if it hadn't been touched since they had last been there.

I guess Kirei didn't survive the war.

A welcomed piece of information, finally. The death of the priest most likely had meant the closing and abandonment of this church, Lancer had guessed. Cobwebs and dust suspended everywhere, however, some of the church equipment had been raided. Following a familiar set, he traveled down to where the priest had kept his 'housing' and documents hidden away, finding most of it untouched. Although dusted, he flipped the blanket off the bed and found the sheets underneath intact.

It isn't perfect, but it will do for now.

Lancer threw himself on it and rested his head on his arms. This was his new life, watching the world around him change so differently. Lancer wondered if there was any place in it for him.