Change
Change
No pairings. G. 292. Spoilers for *that* episode, blame for this story goes to Hallidae for her songs.
All Maes could do after that was watch.
He shuffled the cards in his fingers, a constant flicker of sound in an abyss of nothing as he stared out of the window in front of him. He’d refused to continue on, far more focused on making sure that what he’d tried so hard to tell them got there.
He’d had a feeling that it would be over. He hadn’t really wanted to think about how everything had focused down that last day. It had all snapped to clarity, and he’d known. Yet he’d had to make sure, moving against his intuition.
He regretted that now.
Putting his hand against the window of his little haven, he set the cards in his lap, watching events, now out of his hands, spiral past him quickly, so quickly. Glimmers of life that sometimes flared in his empty way station.
Some lingered long enough to be seen clearly. The grief, the tears, those events that he could have directly changed. Even if he was glad to be remembered, he’d never wanted to see them cry like that. He’d never wanted Roy to take on that obstacle alone, and he’d certainly never wanted to see his killer hurt one of the boys he’d seen as a son while wearing his face.
But that was where his chance to change things for the better, even in his incorporeal state, was once again there to be seized upon. Instead of letting the boy die in his sacrifice, swallowed whole by the gate, he sent him along to the other side.
Then, there was nothing to do but wait patiently for his next chance. He flipped over the top card on the deck, not even needing to look to know it was Death, the harbinger of change.
Done for fma500
No pairings. G. 292. Spoilers for *that* episode, blame for this story goes to Hallidae for her songs.
All Maes could do after that was watch.
He shuffled the cards in his fingers, a constant flicker of sound in an abyss of nothing as he stared out of the window in front of him. He’d refused to continue on, far more focused on making sure that what he’d tried so hard to tell them got there.
He’d had a feeling that it would be over. He hadn’t really wanted to think about how everything had focused down that last day. It had all snapped to clarity, and he’d known. Yet he’d had to make sure, moving against his intuition.
He regretted that now.
Putting his hand against the window of his little haven, he set the cards in his lap, watching events, now out of his hands, spiral past him quickly, so quickly. Glimmers of life that sometimes flared in his empty way station.
Some lingered long enough to be seen clearly. The grief, the tears, those events that he could have directly changed. Even if he was glad to be remembered, he’d never wanted to see them cry like that. He’d never wanted Roy to take on that obstacle alone, and he’d certainly never wanted to see his killer hurt one of the boys he’d seen as a son while wearing his face.
But that was where his chance to change things for the better, even in his incorporeal state, was once again there to be seized upon. Instead of letting the boy die in his sacrifice, swallowed whole by the gate, he sent him along to the other side.
Then, there was nothing to do but wait patiently for his next chance. He flipped over the top card on the deck, not even needing to look to know it was Death, the harbinger of change.
Done for fma500