The Sky is Broken by atheniandream

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Story Notes: Spoilers: Heroes P1and2 (Warning, major spoilers.)
Season: Seven.

Email: atheniandream@aol.com

The Sky is Broken

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I can't believe how much this hurts...
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The General beings to speak.

"Today, we all lost a soldier,"

The dull-resonance of a note representing some kind of solitary tune, ensues through a stark and abysmal silence, but I can't hear a thing. Not even the long, deep breaths of Daniel to my left, his right hand twitching against my side as if some absence were placed there. And I feel it. The space almost burns its entirety into my coat pocket.

"To most of us, we lost a good friend,"

Daniel on my left. And Teal'c beside him. Silent.

"A mother, a best friend."

But I still can't hear a thing.

"A person, who touch each of the lives of all of you here today. Whether it was saving your life. Being in your life. Or even passing you everyday."

Not the synchronised pounding feet of the officers beside us, saluting in a quietly driven shock. Or the sound of Cassie, Crying. Screaming out in pain as she hangs to me, tears flooding, pouring out, her fingers clenching mine. She's trying to be brave, to face it. Face what we all have at some point. But it's different this time around. Just the 'end deal' instead of the beginning. No Sg-1 saving the day before an inevitable strike of blood and tears and work that we put upon Satan because his minions cannot be named. Not this time. Those names have faces. But they don't stop Cassie crying, the love, and despair bleeding out her as if it could be splashed across her face willingly as some bitter, etch-of-a smile. I still can't hear. God, I can't hear any of it.

"Janet Frasier, will be remembered, in my eyes, for caring. She cared for everyone that she met. Not because she had to, because it was her job. No. Because she wanted to."

The death of my mother isn't even to blame. Were taught to laugh at the face of death, whether our own or a loved one, or a friend. A friend who tried nothing but her hardest and paid the penalty of sacrifice. Just for being a career and a giver of life. Hers was taken away today...

"This is what we can remember and salute her for."

But that's not drowning out the sound. I still can't hear. Taste, touch, and feel.

Anything except the light brush of wind on my left shoulder, Ruffling the lapel of my jacket, playing with the hairs that lie there as if it were all a game. All of it. Including this.

I stand there. I can't move, not as the coffin is lowered. As a row of biting air is inhaled by us all, I want to move. I want to run, as far away as I can. I don't want to stand here. Seeing these people hurt, clinging to one another, in pain.

The truth is, that I'm not really here. Amidst it all, even the death of a beloved friend, despite the pain, there is a quiet peace about myself.

Selfishly, my thoughts aren't dazzled in a drought of anger at the lucid death before my eyes. They're not even close. I'm dowsed in more pain, confusion and sorrow that... That the man who should be at my side, Right now, Honouring our friend, Sharing my despair, Isn't. Instead, that person is lying in a bed, clinging to his own life-weary soul. Forgetting to remember the time that was lost to him. That short time, That we all share here now. That is forever changed.

The death and splitting souls of a lifetime's companions, fail to even agitate loosely the loss of the person you hold true to you heart...

And that's the way it goes.

~~~

Amidst a time where angels fly, I find myself, and love awoken. Out where pale orchids lie, And like my heart, The sky is broken...

~~~

End Notes: "The poems you can make and the hearts you can break are no match for the muffin man!"- Athena

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Athena

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