Promises
Danae
Disclaimer: Not mine…:P
Notes: Not betaed… Something short. Death, but no one we ever met… The song doesn't really have anything to do with the story, except that my aunt's desire to have this song sung at her funeral is what gave me the idea. And no, we aren't the slightest bit Irish. That side of the family is Muscogee Creek and Dutch. Got Scottish on Dad's side, but that's beside the point… Shutting up now…<g>
From glen to glen and down the mountainside
The summer's gone and all the roses falling
'Tis you, tis you must go and I must bide…
Blair Sandburg opened his eyes. The singer was wonderful. She had a beautiful voice, but the occasion was not conducive to actual enjoyment of her talent. He glanced to his right. His best friend stood there, still and silent. Just the twitch of his jaw and the single tear that sat poised at the corner of his eye distinguished Jim Ellison from a marble statue.
Blair had not even known that Jim's uncle was still alive, much less that Jim cared so much for the man. He had met Rucker once, but neither Jim nor his cousin had mentioned Rucker's parents. Now, Blair watched Jim as Jim watched his beloved uncle be laid to rest.
William Ellison was there, as was Stephen. The other two men sat with the family, while Jim seemed determined to stand. So be it. Blair would stand with him. It was only right.
But come ye back
when summer's in the meadow
Or when the valley's hushed
and white with snow
'Tis I'll be here in
sunshine or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy,
I love you so.
The wind blew a
strand of Blair's hair into his eyes, and he flinched. Jim's hand was instantly on his
shoulder. Blair tried to smile a little
and shook his head to let his sentinel know he was fine. Jim nodded once and turned back to the
service.
Blair looked up at
the gray sky. Even the sky was paying
its respects, misting sadness down all around the people assembled. If there was such a thing, it was the perfect
day for a funeral. He sighed.
Rucker sobbed, and
Blair found himself fighting tears, not for the dead man he had never met, but
for his son. And his nephew, as Jim
stepped up closer to his cousin and clamped a big hand on Rucker's shoulder.
And when you
come, and all the flowers are dying
And I am dead, as dead I
well may be
You'll come and find the
place where I am lying
And kneel and say an
"Ave" there for me.
Jim was so near to
the edge of breaking down. Blair could
tell. Four years with the man had
taught him well the limits of Jim Ellison's stoicism. Seeing Rucker lose his composure had put another crack in the
veneer. If the song and this funeral
did not end soon…
Rucker grasped
Jim's hand and raised wet eyes. The
smile he attempted was the saddest thing that Blair had ever seen.
A sob escaped Jim's
control. The sound cut at Blair's
heart. He hated to see Jim
hurting. It just wasn't fair.
Jim had lost too
many people in his life. It just wasn't
fair for him to lose anyone else. Jim
Ellison had seen more than his fair share of death, damn it. Blair wanted to scream at the darkening sky
at the injustice of Jim's pain. Jim
Ellison helped so many, and yet, time and time again, Jim lost those he cared
for the most.
And I shall hear,
tho' soft you tread above me
And all the earth shall
warm and sweeter be
And you will bend and tell
me that you love me
I shall sleep in peace
until you come to me.
I shall sleep in peace
until you come to me.
Blair wiped a tear
from his face as the last note of the old ballad floated away on the heavy
air. It was over then. Jim hugged Rucker and his wife, Andrea. He went to his father and brother and shook
their hands. A few words passed that
Blair couldn't hear then Jim was on his way back to Blair.
"Let's get out
of here, Chief." In an
uncharacteristic display, Jim put one arm around Blair as they walked back to
the big Ford that sat just down the hill.
Jim unlocked Blair's door then circled around to his own.
When they were
inside the vehicle, Blair turned to offer his condolences again, but Jim held
up one hand. Jim stared at him for a
long moment, an expression of naked, honest grief on his face. "Blair, make me a promise."
"What?"
"Don't make me
live through your funeral, Chief. I
want to go first."
"Jim, I
can't—"
"You have to,
Blair. I realized something up there on
that hill today. I love Rucker. I loved Uncle Edward. I love my dad and Stephen. But there was only one person up there that
I do not think I could do without in my life.
And that's you. I can't lose
you, Blair. I can't watch some faceless
undertaker lower you into the ground.
Don't make me do that."
Tears rolled down
Blair's face unchecked. "I don't
think I've ever meant that much to anyone."
"You mean that
much to me, Blair."
"What if I
don't want to bury you?"
"Then I guess
we'll just have to go together, Chief."
"Yeah, I guess
we will."
"Maybe that's
the way it's supposed to be." Jim
cranked the truck, and Blair reached out and covered his hand before he could
shift it into gear.
"You know I
can't really promise, right?"
"God, I wish
you could."
As his sentinel
pulled away from the cemetery, Blair almost wished he could too. He would do anything to save Jim Ellison
from another moment's pain. If they
only could go together. A thought or
maybe more of a plea. Please, let us go
together. He had not expected an
answer.
But he got
one. As he looked back up the hill one
last time, he saw them. Side by side
they stood, one black as night, the other grayer than the gray sky above. They seemed to look right at him, then
turned as one to the horizon and walked away.
He smiled and said a silent thank you as they faded from sight.