Precious Years 10/10

[sweetzattack.livejournal.com]

This is it then...we've come to the end at last. I hope you enjoyed it ;o)

Title: That Final Mile
Series: Precious Years 10/10
Author: sweetzattack
Pairings: DM/BB, DM/EW in series
Rating: PG
Warning: Character death in series
Summary: Even the deepest love of all sometimes turns out to be a troublesome thing...
Disclaimer: I own them and I cut this out of some newspaper I bought from a bavarian donkey 2346 years ago on Mars. *rolleyes* It's a LIE. Made UP. Wish I owned them nevertheless, so lemme dream ;o)
All titles and lyrics in this series taken from the wonderful Runrig.
x-posted to: monaboyd and my own journal
Other Parts: Part 1: Heart Hammer
Part 2: Every River
Part 3: (Stepping down the) Glory Road
Part 4: Failte Gu Mo Thir
Part 5: Leaving Strathconon
Part 6: Lighthouse
Part 7: Forever Eyes Of Blue
Part 8: Smalltown
Part 9: Nach Neonach Neisd A Tha E – Isn’t it strange now

And finally this is it:


I had given up acting and moved back to Manchester.
I just couldn’t stand shooting anymore, it reminded me of you and the days we had.
It took my parents an awful lot of time to get me back on my feet, they tried in vain until my mother told me to “Be strong. He wouldn’t want you to give up. It would hurt him so much if he knew.”
That saturday my father sent me to Old Trafford and for the first time since you had died, I felt my heart beating again.

Yes, I would be strong – for you.

I did the next two premieres and the following awardshows mechanically, my friends seemed to be slipping away from me, as they went on like nothing had ever happened - or maybe they just were better actors than I am.
Even Elijah didn’t feel so close anymore, one day he introduced me to that girl he liked, telling me that she’d helped him cope with your death.
I hated her and I hated him for this.
She hadn’t even known you, how could he be talking to her about you?
When the last awardshow for Return of the King was done, I knew I’d never see anyone of them again.

I kept listening to Runrig and I kept visiting your grave at least once a year on your birthday.

I always prefered referring to it as your birthday, not as the day you died.
And every time I’d be on my knees, hands burrowed in the soil that covered what remained of your body, singing out another song that reminded me of you.

On that particular day it was “Only the Brave”. Do you remember?

You took me through this town
And you took me to the moment
That makes angels lose their wings
And makes poets lose their wonder
But I have found in you
A love line pure and lasting
May your heart hold true
And your nights run long.

Suddenly I heard a soft female voice singing along, barely audible but I noticed her anyway and turned around.
What I saw was a young woman, about my age and the first thing I noticed about her were her eyes. They were green like yours. And they were filled with tears.
“Did you know him?” I croaked, but she shook her head.
“No...” she whispered, “I just sang that song to my boyfriend over there...”
She pointed to a fresh grave just a few feet away.

I bought a house in Scotland.
You might ask yourself why I did that, Billy, my love and I will tell you.
I wanted my children to grow up in the most beautiful country this world has to offer.
Yes, my children.
I’ve got two of them now, and I’m married to Jen for eight years.
She’s the girl I met at your grave, remember?
She knows she’ll never be able to take your place in my heart and I know I’ll never take her boyfriend’s place in hers, but we really like each other and she’s the only person I know who is able to share my pain.

My little ones’ names are Mary and William...we named them after your parents – and after you.
I hope you like it.
They are such wonderful children, really beautiful, talented and clever. And Scots with all their hearts. Like you were, my Billy.

I feel my time drawing near, I’m gonna stop writing now. Just one last thing:

I love you from the bottom of my heart.
Always have, always will.

Now the hurt is gone
Now the doubt is gone
I’m walking down
A clearway to your heart.

Yours truely.
Dom.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Dominic put down the pen and shut the little white diary he’d been writing in during the last five days.
Carefully he laid it all down on his nightstand and snuggled himself into the soft matress.
In the background, Runrig was playing when he closed his eyes.
A soft and warm little smile formed on his lips when he felt himself slide over to the world that lay beneath, slide over to where his one true love was waiting for him.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Mommy, where’s Daddy?” Mary asked with her tiny voice, and her mother squeezed her hand gently before looking down at her two little ones.
“He followed his heart.”
Then she turned and walked away, leaving two gravestones behind, right beside each other, one was Billy’s and the other one read

Dominic Monaghan
Only the brave can walk alone
May you find what you’ve been looking for.



And in the end, a small note of apology can be found here