Soar
by Amy Fortuna

Pairing: none really, but vague allusions to Rafe/Danny
Rating: PG
Archive: Yes.
Feedback: Please. :)
Summary: Danny reflects on Rafe; Rafe returns the favor.
Notes: This is as close as I'll get to a songfic for "There You'll Be."

****

Danny:

I loved him. I hardly dare to confess the words, even now. I only know that the sense of loss was so great when I heard the news of his death that I could barely move or speak. My mind and heart went numb; it was as though half of my soul had been ripped away.

I could only whisper "it's not true, tell me it's not true." There was no answer to that.

And with his death, new shadows throw themselves harsh over the curve of gentle hill and winding river. Nothing looks the same to me.

Music feels deeper, richer, to my senses. The play of light on the face of a beautiful woman, across her body -- nothing looks the same as it did when Rafe was with me.

And at night when I lie in my bed staring out at the summer stars, I see him. I remember the laughter we shared, what seems like an eternity ago. I remember the joy. I remember the pain. I remember the smallest things like the way his lip curled when he got angry, or when he smiled, the way dawn would break out on his face.

I believe that I will see him again when I die. And maybe then I'll get the chance to say the things I never could here on earth.

****

Rafe:

I loved him. I am not afraid to say it, because my Danny was a hero who died in a hero's cause.

But even his heroism cannot dim my grief. As I held him dying in my arms, I could not understand that this was real, that my Danny was being taken away from me and there was nothing I could do about it.

There was no one to push away, no way to stop the pain. Not this time. Tear-mingled words, frantic pleadings, and a last smile are all I remember. The warm weight of him in my arms slowly becoming cold. The mixture of joy and grief on Evelyn's face when a casket followed me down the stairs of the plane.

Faint snatches of memory from World War II. But before that, I can see vividly. I can remember splashing Danny in the swimming hole. I can picture the two of us sitting in the treehouse we built, spying out overflying planes. All the good times, all the laughter and happiness, like a dream just out of reach.

My Danny left behind a changing world. Because of him, it's hopefully changing for the better.

In my dreams, I will always picture him as his spirit must have looked ascending to heaven -- soaring swift above the sky.

END