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Jan. 6th, 2011 03:13 pmIt was easy to forget sometimes.
The island was fixed in eternal summer once more, ice and snow replaced by a bright sun and endless green, gentle breezes stirring the leaves all around them. No hurricanes, no tsunamis, no outbreaks of dinosaurs or other dangerous creatures. It was peaceful and calm, and for all the time that Dean had spent in the last few months in mourning, it was easy to forget the greatest danger on the island for a little while, to forget that the ones you loved could leave you at any time.
It was easy to forget that people could die.
Dean stood for a very long time outside the clinic. The body inside was already cold and covered in a sheet, protected from prying eyes. There was nothing more anyone could do for it, and every moment Dean stood in silence was another moment Neil and Tom and their girls could spend in ignorant joy.
But he had to start moving some time. Word would spread soon, and they didn’t need to hear from a stranger that they were widowers and orphans.
Dead. Mike Pinocchio was dead, with not a mark on him. It'd been a peaceful death to be sure, but it would be a long time before that was any comfort.
Dean sighed, cold sweat on his neck despite the sun. He put one foot forward, and then the other, face tight and pale to the few he passed on his way to the World Tree.
It was a beautiful tree. Dean had never really noticed before, mind taking in only big and green, but now he saw it for what it was. Its roots and branches sheltered a home, and Dean was here to break that home wide open.
He knocked before his nerve could fail him, panic a muted buzz between his ears.
The island was fixed in eternal summer once more, ice and snow replaced by a bright sun and endless green, gentle breezes stirring the leaves all around them. No hurricanes, no tsunamis, no outbreaks of dinosaurs or other dangerous creatures. It was peaceful and calm, and for all the time that Dean had spent in the last few months in mourning, it was easy to forget the greatest danger on the island for a little while, to forget that the ones you loved could leave you at any time.
It was easy to forget that people could die.
Dean stood for a very long time outside the clinic. The body inside was already cold and covered in a sheet, protected from prying eyes. There was nothing more anyone could do for it, and every moment Dean stood in silence was another moment Neil and Tom and their girls could spend in ignorant joy.
But he had to start moving some time. Word would spread soon, and they didn’t need to hear from a stranger that they were widowers and orphans.
Dead. Mike Pinocchio was dead, with not a mark on him. It'd been a peaceful death to be sure, but it would be a long time before that was any comfort.
Dean sighed, cold sweat on his neck despite the sun. He put one foot forward, and then the other, face tight and pale to the few he passed on his way to the World Tree.
It was a beautiful tree. Dean had never really noticed before, mind taking in only big and green, but now he saw it for what it was. Its roots and branches sheltered a home, and Dean was here to break that home wide open.
He knocked before his nerve could fail him, panic a muted buzz between his ears.
