49. Collapse / Bob the Skull
Title: What Once Was Lost
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 49. Collapse
Word Count: 540
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Notes: Spoilers for What About Bob?
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Once a sorcerer, always a sorcerer. The wielding of magic was like riding the proverbial bicycle; you never forgot, no matter how many centuries intervened. The gathering of energy from the atmosphere became second nature, as did molding the elements at hand into a cohesive whole with strength of will.
Bob delved deep for this spell, drawing power from the wellspring that was his life's force and bolstering it with the emotional strength of his soul's desire. It was the most important spell he had ever cast, for so much was riding on its outcome. He called on every ounce of magical energy he'd amassed in his fleeting hours of mortality and channeled it through Harry's wizard's staff. Everything he had and everything he was, Bob threw with deadly force at the newly resurrected Justin Morningway.
Grasping the staff in both hands, Bob felt the power surge through him, metaphysically burning everything in its path with a force so great it threatened to tear the staff away. He closed his eyes and held on as if to a writhing electric eel, refusing to let go until he could be absolutely certain that Morningway would never again walk the earth or menace Harry.
Morningway's scream of frustration and pain became a high pitched wail that suddenly evaporated along with his corporeal form. Power flashed sunfire bright, eradicating the last vestige of the Dark Wizard's existence.
Then silence.
Thoughts and consciousness bled away as the staff fell from Bob's nerveless hands. He was hardly aware that he'd dropped the implement as it clattered to the tiled floor, an inanimate hockey stick once more. Bob followed, the strength gone from legs no longer able to support him. He stumbled and sank to his knees, his body humming with the energies that had nearly consumed him.
And was that a voice calling?
Then he was falling . . . falling . . . into the arms of gravity as the cold floor rose up to meet him.
Yes . . . let it . . .
He no longer cared. No longer felt. He'd done what he'd set out to do. Now let it be finished.
It was not the floor but strong arms and gentle hands that arrested his fall. Bob's eyes fluttered open for the last time, expecting to see ceiling and harsh florescent lights. Instead his vision was filled with a familiar face bending close, shadowed with emotion. The accusation and pain of betrayal he'd recognized earlier within those dark eyes were gone now, replaced with understanding and more. More than Bob could ever have hoped for. Concern, relief, and bitter anguish. For him. And the loss of him.
The last fleeting spark of life squeezed at his mortal heart, as if to cling to a body that could no longer sustain it. Bob winced at the pain, moaned softly, and felt the gentle hands that held him tighten as if to shield him from Death.
As vision failed and breath sighed away, he thought he heard Harry pleading for him to stay and managed a smile.
Yes, thought Bob as he slid once more into the abyss of Death, for the first time welcoming the Curse that bound him.
He would stay. Forever, if need be.
For Harry.
Author: Cyloran
Fandom: The Dresden Files (tv-verse)
Characters: Bob, Harry
Prompt: 49. Collapse
Word Count: 540
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: The Dresden Files do not belong to me. Just passing through.
Notes: Spoilers for What About Bob?
Table: Here There be Ghosts
Once a sorcerer, always a sorcerer. The wielding of magic was like riding the proverbial bicycle; you never forgot, no matter how many centuries intervened. The gathering of energy from the atmosphere became second nature, as did molding the elements at hand into a cohesive whole with strength of will.
Bob delved deep for this spell, drawing power from the wellspring that was his life's force and bolstering it with the emotional strength of his soul's desire. It was the most important spell he had ever cast, for so much was riding on its outcome. He called on every ounce of magical energy he'd amassed in his fleeting hours of mortality and channeled it through Harry's wizard's staff. Everything he had and everything he was, Bob threw with deadly force at the newly resurrected Justin Morningway.
Grasping the staff in both hands, Bob felt the power surge through him, metaphysically burning everything in its path with a force so great it threatened to tear the staff away. He closed his eyes and held on as if to a writhing electric eel, refusing to let go until he could be absolutely certain that Morningway would never again walk the earth or menace Harry.
Morningway's scream of frustration and pain became a high pitched wail that suddenly evaporated along with his corporeal form. Power flashed sunfire bright, eradicating the last vestige of the Dark Wizard's existence.
Then silence.
Thoughts and consciousness bled away as the staff fell from Bob's nerveless hands. He was hardly aware that he'd dropped the implement as it clattered to the tiled floor, an inanimate hockey stick once more. Bob followed, the strength gone from legs no longer able to support him. He stumbled and sank to his knees, his body humming with the energies that had nearly consumed him.
And was that a voice calling?
Then he was falling . . . falling . . . into the arms of gravity as the cold floor rose up to meet him.
Yes . . . let it . . .
He no longer cared. No longer felt. He'd done what he'd set out to do. Now let it be finished.
It was not the floor but strong arms and gentle hands that arrested his fall. Bob's eyes fluttered open for the last time, expecting to see ceiling and harsh florescent lights. Instead his vision was filled with a familiar face bending close, shadowed with emotion. The accusation and pain of betrayal he'd recognized earlier within those dark eyes were gone now, replaced with understanding and more. More than Bob could ever have hoped for. Concern, relief, and bitter anguish. For him. And the loss of him.
The last fleeting spark of life squeezed at his mortal heart, as if to cling to a body that could no longer sustain it. Bob winced at the pain, moaned softly, and felt the gentle hands that held him tighten as if to shield him from Death.
As vision failed and breath sighed away, he thought he heard Harry pleading for him to stay and managed a smile.
Yes, thought Bob as he slid once more into the abyss of Death, for the first time welcoming the Curse that bound him.
He would stay. Forever, if need be.
For Harry.