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.