Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow--
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream
Far above--amid the distant rumbling, the reverberating crashes and the approaching roar and clatter of the crumbling edifice around--there was a sharp crack, clear, resounding, pure and sudden.
For a moment, Cain C. Hargreaves thought that it must be the sound of his own madly beating heart breaking from the wrenching, painful joy this final day had brought. For a moment, he imagined it must be the shuddering sound of all his frozen emotions thawing all at once in the sudden warmth of the embrace he believed he'd never feel again, feelings like a thousand ice roses dropping from nerveless fingers to shatter upon the treacherous floor below. For a moment, pressed up against the chest he'd buried his tears in for so many years, as he felt the heart within beat tremulous and slow, he thought it must be the clear and piercing sound of rushing blood and flowing tears freezing and crashing to the rubble strewn ground in a dazzling array of pearls and rubies as the once-strong body against him lost its warmth.
There was a second, then, when he was sure the distant crashes must be the sound of Heaven tearing free from the skies to envelop him with open arms which held him tightly until he forgot to breathe, strong bonds forged in many years of unquestioning loyalty, unconditional love.
But then he felt a hand upon his chest and suddenly he was falling, pushed away, rejected and alone once more, wide golden eyes staring, not understanding.
"Cain, forgive me…"
And then he looked up.
There was a light far above him, in a world he had almost forgotten. It poured down in colored streams, sifted through the stained glass of a decorative window somewhere far away, somewhere where he had once been, in the reaches of the sunlight which could not penetrate the darkness here. They fell, hordes of brilliant butterflies, luminous and vibrant, fluttering down in a rainbow of sharp and piercing snow. So mesmerizing, the sight of them, simply falling in a shower of color and light and ringing sound, long-lost memories breaking free and spiraling toward freedom far away from the broken, twisted frame which had tried to hold them back before.
Spiraling, twisting, sharp and beautiful and deadly…
Blurring… Were they moving too quickly or was there a moisture in his eyes he could not quite dispel?
Moving… Did he will his feet to move, his arms to stretch, his voice to crack in a poor attempt at anger?
"The arrogance…"
Long pale fingers reached out one final time, grasping desperately for that which he had searched for all his life, closing on a handful of thick dark gray cloth with the unwavering intent never to let go again. His body moved of its own accord, propelled forward by the tightening in his throat, the constricted feeling of his chest, the flush upon his cheeks, the damp warmth in his golden eyes. Slender arms wrapped around the neck of the object of his search, the cause of his joy and pain and the fluttering, wrenching sensation in his stomach.
It was a graceful final leap, the shards of solid painted rain providing a halo of tinted light, perhaps the color of a smile and a tear, the echoing crashes an orchestra playing wildly in the distance, an eternal last sonata.
"How dare you propose to leave me once again, Riff?"
The whispered words would surely have been lost amidst the symphony of destruction surrounding the two dark figured huddled on the ground directly beneath the shattered window, the rays of fading sunlight filtering down slowly, dispersing and scattering and reaching out to them with thin strands of gentle radiance, illuminating the ultimate path, the end of destinations.
Cain felt the comforting weight blanketing his body flinch and shift. Something warm and familiar drenched his back and slowly dripped onto his thick ebony tresses, though to whom this ruby substance belonged even he was not quite sure.
"Lord Cain…"
His name gasped into the sudden silence as the building shuddered one last time, the voice desperate and fearful, but not for its own sake.
"Are you… unharmed…?"
The words were nearly silent, forced through broken lungs, an impossible feat.
"You must… get out… Lord Cain…"
There was something in his throat, refusing to let him speak, something in his eyes, blurring his vision so he couldn't see.
"Lord Cain…"
He merely shook his head, slowly, gingerly, careful not to dislodge the silvery substance spilling over his shoulder, the ragged warm breath caressing his neck.
"Not lord anymore, Riff."
The murmured response was finally able to fight past the thickness in his quivering pale throat .
"I've given everything to Mary. I am not… I cannot…"
The grip on is shoulders tightened, though whether it was pain, surprise, or sorrow that caused his human shield to flinch it was unclear.
"Lord Cain…" the voice insisted softly. "You must…"
The corners of his lips twitched upward in a small smile, content and just a little sad, the poignant expression of an exotic porcelain doll. He could feel his body shiver, shudder and collapse within. Wandering alone, berated by the ceaseless hail of brick and glass, falling, standing, dragging himself forward in search of the one thing he needed most in this God-forsaken world, it was a wonder his ribs had not given out sooner.
But the warm pain blossoming in his abdomen must be what true joy felt like, his heart beating an elated cadence against his damaged chest.
"Don't be so selfish, Riff."
His own voice sounded miles away, yet strong and firm despite the distance, slightly haughty and amused. His voice, as it must have sounded long ago in the land of light before his very world had betrayed him, crashing down upon his fragile being only to come now and pull him tenderly from the rubble of his own shattered hopes and stale regrets.
"How could you suggest you leave me once again when I have only just realized that we've always been together?"
Silence.
Golden eyes widened, blurred again with tears, the smile fading from cold lips as darkness pressed in at the edges of his quickly fading world.
"Riff…?"
It was a choked gasp, a desperate cry of disbelief and heart wrenching sorrow in a sharp intake of breath, throat so tight it hurt far more than menial trifles such as organs damaged beyond hope.
Silence. Dreaded silence.
He tried to speak again, tried to call the name he'd called so often for so many years. In his childhood, as he lay sick in bed, as he prepared for bath or dinner, when his shoe was untied, his cuff unbuttoned, in his very dreams… Yet now it stayed upon his lips and he found he could not breathe, heart hammering upon his shattered ribs, as broken as the body which hung limply around his slender form.
And then, that ruined frame shifted and he could feel the hot breath on his cheek, liquid silver filling his vision before it faded into gentle night. Strong arms held him, a fortress made of flesh, his shelter and his home, his world rebuilt round him, genuine and secure.
"Forgive me, Cain… For being selfish…"
Joy. Calm and silent, reaching through the night in soft, pale silver strands the color of the moonlight, the scent of clean towels and tea, the rough strong hands that gently washed his back and nursed him in his fever, tied his laces and eased his burning scars, the rich, inviting voice which pulled him from the void when all hope was surely lost. It came in a wave of scents and sounds, memories and recollections. The only thing he'd ever truly needed.
"Forgive me, Cain…"
The voice to which he'd fallen asleep to, woken up to, longed for and searched for every day was soft, apologetic, laced with deep regret.
"I cannot stay…"
He almost laughed, this idyllic, profound happiness unable to be dispelled by even such remorseful words. A slender hand reached up slowly to settle like a soft pale butterfly upon the calloused fingers which held him to the barely beating heart of the one who had taken his one springtime long ago, in the Hargreaves garden, where a little boy hid crying all alone.
"Why, what a foolish thing to say," he whispered in reply, the blissful smile returned to his lips, elegant and true.
"We will go together. You and I, Riff. And you will never leave me again."
He could not see; the world was black to him. Yet he was sure he felt familiar lips moving timidly against his cheek, corners pulling slightly upward in gentle understanding and content, shifting just a little to press against his forehead, soft pale rose petals warm and tender against his cool skin.
"Yes, of course," they murmured faintly.
"Lord Cain…"
When Crehador found them hours later, the sunshine kissing entwined ebony and silver tresses, he thought for a moment that he must have stumbled on a pair of angels embracing for the final time. The scattered colored light surrounded them enchantingly, God's grace embodied, a mosaic of ruby and sapphire and crystal glow, the tears and blood of seraphims.
And amid this splendor lay the lord, cradled carefully in the arms of his faithful servant, sleeping, dreaming pleasant dreams, and smiling benignly on his splendid kingdom of multicolored memories.
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.
By Fullmetal-Tora
Verse by E.A. Poe