Author's note: just a little drabble of dreams and memories. I don't own the characters, but I imagine a future for Capable that speaks to my heart and, hopefully, to your heart too. Please review.

"...witness me..."

She wakes up with her hand outstretched and gentle tears in her eyes. She drops her hand to her heart and exhales a shaky breath. She has so few memories of him, his shape appears far less in her dreams than Splendid's or Joe's. But every once in a while, she watches the fire eat his blue eyes and she still won't look away.

His crying echoes between her ears when the War Pups act up. She teaches them to build and create, to repair and to heal, but sometimes they still betray themselves with toxic aggression and blood. She will steady herself for them then and tell them a story while she cleans, binds or stitches.

"Yesterday, last week, just a mile down the road, there was a boy named Nux who only knew war. He made war against his body while a cancer warred against him. He made war against his half-life when he gave so much of it to those who cared so little. He made war against the land by spilling oil and blood. This was all he knew, an organic machine. He couldn't tell you why a glorious death made life worth living, but it was all he dreamt of. He couldn't tell you why an old man's glance made his heart feel full, but it was all he craved. Three times he approached the gates of Valhalla only to fail, to fall into darkness unwitnessed and found wanting. His gift of war was not a gift at all. So he decided to make a gift of his life.

He learned to lock eyes with someone and let it fill him. He learned to trust and be trusted. He learned to cherish flesh as well as steel. He even found that the warmth of the Sun was within his grasp through the kindness and closeness of others. He gave his life for freedom instead of spending his death in slavery and in the end, it was because he was willing to live that Nux was witnessed heroic on the Fury Road."

The Pups are usually silent by the end of the story. The wounded ones may cry and she wipes away their tears without shaming them. She locks eyes with each of the small boys and smiles. Then she will go back to teaching them how to build and create, to repair and to heal.

She carries the memory of his scars under her fingertips gladly. She relishes having the choice to accept him. She cherishes his choice to accept her. She had two nights and billions of stars to share with him. It was the first time she had known anything but war in her body, brain and soul. To be able to find peace in a War Boy's arms! She sighs quietly, remembering his blue eyes by the lamp light and not wanting to look away. She reaches her hand toward the horizon and says,

"...witnessed..."