by Sparks
Disclaimer: The characters don't belong to me. (Damn.) They'reMarvel's. But the fic is mine, so I can sue *them* if they take it! Mwahahahaha! (Not that they'd *want* to, of course, but still...don't be a killjoy.;) Thanks to Lynxie, for beta'ing, and for her encouragement. Means a lot to me. :) Thanks, Lynx! <snugs> And also to all those wonderful people in #plotting who tell me that my fics don't suck. You all help me to keep up doing what I love--writing. Love you guys. Okay, enough sap. ;)
The rain pattered down steadily in light sheets. A grey ceiling was painted over the world as the smoky-coloured face of the sky cried soft tears that were absorbed into the earth, as if it were a handkerchief.
Heavy booted feet sloshed through puddled grass and mud as he walked, head lowered, the damp droplets plastering his silver hair to the nape ofhis neck and his forehead. He didn't mind it; it was a cooling comfort almost, like a splash of cool water against one's face meant to snap one back into consciousness and free the mind of distractions.
He continued on his path, over grasslands and hills, through the marshy muck that stuck to the soles of his shoes, smudging the tawny leather with dark stains. Memories of the route he was taking played out before his mind; memories of fire and chaos, of screams, and always of tears. Even now, the land yet untouched by such wretched forces, even now there were tears.
Though now, the sky cried of innocence, dancing in the shadows of its future fall from grace.
The clammy chill of the weather didn't seem to affect him--he didn't even shiver. His hands remained jammed into the pockets of his jacket, knotted in fists, ever precarious to ward off any who might interrupt his thoughts and disturb the peace.
He came to an almost reluctant stop beneath the draping curtains of a weeping willow. Had anyone been unaware of his reasons for being there, they might have assumed that he was seeking shelter.
He was--in a way.
The tree would no longer be there when his memories took place. The thick roots, so deeply ground into the soil, would be ripped above ground and torn from their Mother Earth. But it looked beautiful now. The way the clear, little rivers would trickle down the long, full branches and land with quiet pelts on the ground. The way the tiny waterfalls would seem frozen in time, just for a split-second, like exquisite crystal, before the moment was shattered and they resumed their course, plunging for the planet.
It nearly startled him to think that that's what he was standing on--ground, not graves.
This is where she would be laid to rest. His beautiful Aliya. His last image of her was of a broken, scorched woman, weak and with strenuous breath which she used to ask him one final question. But that wasn't how she was remembered, not in his heart. He would always look back on a creature of strength and beauty, of compassion and love and iron will. *That* was his Aliya. In time, her soul would be a keepsake of this land. She died with his words in her mind. His promise to her. His...broken...promise. He wondered if the earth ever told her, ever let his secret slip out between the crevices. She didn't deserve to find out like that.
So in this, his one last attempt to let her know, to at least...leave her a message...his last hope of forgiveness that he needed, was his closure. In this, he might actually speak his first words to his lost love. Hismouth, suddenly dry, forced out the words that had been weighing him down for so many years.
"Aliya?" He questioned, nearly expecting her to answer back. "Aliya, it's...it's me..."
A lump began to form in his throat which he forced down along with his remorse into the pit of his stomach.
"I just wanted to tell you...I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you. About Tyler, about...about making all your dreams come true...you remember, don't you? Of course you do...you wouldn't forget our vows. You were always so much more responsible about those things. I considered them trivial at times...my mind was trivial whenever I thought that. I'm so--" his voice cracked. There was no way around it. "So, so sorry...I broke my promise, and your trust in me...I'm sorry."
Tears were masked by the raindrops. He was grateful. The world had done him a favor for once.
*No,* he noted to himself. *Not now. No bitterness now.* His eyes closed briefly, opening again, a strength held firmly behind the faded sapphire orbs, like dusty gems, revered more for their impenetrability than their beauty, but containing a worn endearment all their own.
"And I need to ask you...about Domino...I love her. I don't deserve to have her, not after this...but I found her, and I don't want to let her go. I need you in this. I need to know it's okay. I love her like I loved...like I loved you."
A rustle in the branches was heard as the wind blew a little harder. Its severity was almost comforting. It provided a background noise to the silence of his mind. Not many random thoughts passed through such a barren place. It wasn't as if he would have noticed anyway, though.
"Please...please forgive me...I need to go on," his voice was choking and soft. "I need her now, like I needed--need you."
The shadows danced against the trunk of the tree, reflecting his labored melody. For a brief moment, his memories flashed back to that fateful day--the day of her funeral. It had been a harsh Sunday afternoon. There had been no actual priest, but the clan had joined together in ritual chanting. That day had been filled with mourning and spirit, a new determination that brimmed over the hearts of the clan, diluting their grief with hope. Crude candles rationed out of spare bits of wax had been lit in memory of those whose souls had departed. It had been the beginning of his withdrawal out of the light and into the dark. He hadn't lit a candle since then.
It was Monday now. Yesterday and tomorrow both at the same time, torn between the emotions of both. Feelings that were unsure if they were supposed to be felt yet stirred in his mind, pulling him this way and that, testing his endurance, until he would need to call for the proverbial back up.
"Let me know...?" The question was part pleading, part hopeful, and fully answered as a distant voice was carried to his ears by the wind.
"Nathan?" A pale, raven-haired figure approached him hesitantly.
"Domino."
"Nate, what are you doing out here?"
He pulled her closer to him, gently. "Thank you." The only thing he said.
Domino's brow furrowed in puzzlement and concern. "What?"
Her answer was a stronger embrace and his warm, salty lips pressed intimately against her own.
And the clouds wept with emotion.