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Friday, 6 December 2013

Changing Fate

Hey people 

I got this inspiration from a book called "Skyship Academy," Nick James 
I obviously changed a few things but I really enjoyed this story and enjoyed writing this. 
As always thanks for reading... 

A.D May XX    




Changing Fate
Dein felt the phone in his pocket vibrate, and a wall of panic hit him.
‘Jesse? What’s Wrong?’ he answered.
‘They’ve found me.’ Those four words made Dein’s legs feel week, those four words were the reason he had fought so hard to keep his brother at his side. He was already outdoors drenched in sweat from the desert heat, when he began to run towards the controls, which would release the Jet from underground. He knew that the others could not protect his brother, he should have never agreed to leave him. Dein’s breath caught in his throat as the thought about losing the only family he had left, and despite the desert heat he felt cold.
‘Jesse, I’m coming. I promise I’m coming,’ he almost yelled. Panic was making him falter and Dein didn’t want to show his brother how terrified he truly was. Dein started up the Na ST4, the aircraft he had been granted from the military, and prayed it would be fast enough.
“I don’t know how long I can keep the shield up,” came Jesse’s desperate voice from the phone that was placed precautions on Dein’s lap.  
“You can do it bud, just keep it up long enough for me to come and help.” They should never be apart, how many times had the two brothers been drilled that together they were stronger. One brother to create the other to destroy; Dein was born to protect his brother that was his function on this planet and it looked as though he had failed.

Jesse hadn’t wanted to call his brother. He wanted to let Dein have a few months peace without having to worry about his sibling. Yet when the red alarm had started blaring at quarter past five in the morning, Jesse knew he was out of his depth. He didn’t understand how they had found him so easily. The four of them, Hale, Eve, Trent and himself where always careful, Dein had given painfully clear instructions that if any harm came to Jesse they wouldn’t hear the end of it. The military, what was left of them, had been protecting the two of brothers from the Hydron Party for two years now, as they were Earth’s only hope. 
Earth had been on the path of destruction for centuries when it finally happened. It wasn’t a slow process like all the scientists had planned. No, the earth was hit by the Scarlet bombings. These bombs destroyed most of the worlds population in seconds, leaving chaos and death in their wake. Three decades later a planet that had once been green and full of life, was now barley livable. The planet had been submerged in desert, when the ozone layer had been destroyed. The only hope for salvation were two orphan brothers who held the power to destroy the ones that believed the human race had little to offer. With the papers splashed with death everyday, this party believed that it was necessary to destroy the planet and start again with the Hydron Party in command. They started a war that would leave the world destroyed and unable to rebuild itself. They saw themselves as the beacon of hope for humanity, as when the smoke cleared they would rebuild the world in their own vision. The new age of Adam.  

Jesse had been best friends with Hale, Eve and Trent long before he had been re-united with his brother all those years ago. They had stuck together, while the world burn around them. Jesse had been too young to have been able to protect the people he watched fall, but that did not stop the nightmares coming to haunt him at night. The five of them had taken refuge with the military underground, in a base that had been built around the same time of the Scarlet Bombings. We are the only resistance left, most of humanity has fallen, the world has been taken over by the Hydron party, and only small pockets of the resistance remain.       
Jesse, as he sprinted down the metal pavement in their unground home, could hear the Hydron soldiers trying to break through his barrier. Every thump to the shield sent shivers up and down his arms and spine. Jesse and Dein had become the slither of hope for the resistance, they were the only chance left to turn the tables around. Therefore as Jesse went to climb up the rigs, which would lead him to the chaos outside, he was caught around the waist by their Captain, and flung over his shoulder.
“Jake put me down! I need to help them, I don’t know -”
“Your brother gave me clear instructions, Jesse, protect you at all costs. And letting you run into a battle with no armor, is not likely for me to win any favors. Your friends are fine, they’re in the panic room, which is exactly where you will be joining them. I need you there -”
“Jake please, the barrier is going to break. I can’t hold on for much longer. Without me you will fall-”
“Exactly, that is precisely why you are going to stay underground where Ian and Jerard can keep an eye on you. Then you will be –”
 If Jesse was being honest with himself he would not say the next moment was one of his finest. He had always admired Jake, and with no father figure Jake had stepped up and filled the role for both him and Dein. So when he used a technique that their captain had taught him only a few days ago to get Jake on the floor in a fetal position, he did not dwell on it long. Sprinting for the rig again Jesse hauled himself to the surface. What he saw next made him catch his breath. Thousands of Hydron worriers wearing the solid black uniforms that defined them, stretched for miles around their fortress. Their guns pointing at the transparent bubble that Jesse was struggling to keep up. He stood tall, the only man surrounded by many. Suddenly an order was given to start shooting, Jesse fell to his knees, as the bubble struggled to keep its shape.
He wasn’t strong enough.
The thought made him stagger, he wouldn’t be able to protect his family. And Yet Jesse knew that he would do everything in his power to give them a few precious seconds to escape. He raised himself to his feet, and lifted his palms to the sky pouring as much power into the shield that he could muster. He felt it pour somewhere from deep within his stomach, but it wasn’t an endless flow, he only had so much reserved without his brother by his side. And as the guns kept firing the last of the power seemed to ebaway. A loud crack, made Jesse look up, a fisher spiraled from the top of the dome snaking its way to the bottom. It hurt, like his own flesh was being cut to pieces.  And then when finally the fisher hit the dusty ground, the dome shattered. Pain burst through Jesse, red hot pain filled him, twisting its way through his blood stream. He heard someone screaming, someone saying his name over and over; but darkness held her arms open for him, wanting him to fall into oblivion. Jesse was tired, tired of being constantly afraid, tired of having to fight back, fight a force that kept growing. The thought of oblivion’s comforting arms, made Jesse forget about the world around him, he easily welcomed the comforting embrace of darkness.  

Jesse was not welcomed by the oblivion he desired, no, colors and noise surrounded him, ass he opened his eyes. He was no longer in the desert, but in a beautiful ornate living room surrounded by many finely dressed people. He knew that no building like this had survived the onslaught of time and suffering, this was no place in his world. Huge windows surrounded the room and Jesse found his feet taking him to one. He placed both hands slowly on the glass as he looked down to the city bellow. It was bustling with people and life, as they went about their daily routine, unafraid. Jesse stood there stunned, it was exactly how he had imaged the world to look before the bombings. He could not look away, he didn’t understand why everything looked so…normal? Someone laughed loudly, pulling him back to the decorative silver and gold hall that was teaming with people and music. He noticed a fire blazing in a hearth that took up most of the back wall, it crackled and popped merrily accompanying the sound of laughter, chatter and clinking of glasses. The room was filled with a warm inviting atmosphere, unlike anything Jesse had ever experienced. And yet he felt unsettled as though something was missing, but the room was filled with people he cared about. He could see Hale, dressed in a pale blue floor-length gown. He smiled to himself as he remembered an argument that they had once shared when they were younger.
‘How do girls ever run if their wearing skirts and dresses that long?’ she had asked, while looking at an ancient magazines that they had found in a pile of rubbish. ‘I don’t ever want to wear a dress,’ she had declared, before throwing the magazine to the floor. She looked beautiful now, Jesse thought, as she giggled into her glass of Champaign. Tent was wearing a black dinner jacket, and looked a lot older and healthier than the last time Jesse had seen his best friend. He stood next to a women who Jesse didn’t recognise, she had golden hair sweeping down her back. She suddenly turned to look over her shoulder at him, smiling, and Jesse realized who Trent’s companion was. Eva had grown out her short, cropped, matted hair and now looked gorgeous, in a royal purple gown that flouted around her slender figure when she moved. Everyone was older, Jesse grasped, and he turned around to study his own figure in the reflection from the glass windows. He too was wearing a back dinner jacket, but his hung from his too skinny frame. He was hunched in on himself as though a burden had never truly been lifted, but what was worse was how people avoided looking at him directly in the eye, and shifted their posture when he came near.  Jesse studied his face grimacing at how haggard he had become, with big bruised bags under his eyes and golden stubble, which was in need of a shave. His eyes looked haunted as they stared back at him, Jesse stumbled back away from his refection, horrified. What had happened? And why did he feel as though something was missing from himself, as though a limb had been removed? He studied the crowd that would not meet his eyes, and realized that he could not see his brother.
He ventured into the room looking everywhere for Dein, people parted ways when he came close, subtly, as though they had time to practice the art, and then he heard the convocation. A man with deep blue eyes and a soft spoken voice stood next to a women equally beautiful with flaming red hair brought into a regal bun, as she gossiped about the gathering.
‘We are going to Dein SkyRen’s service tomorrow. Can you believe it will be eight years since his death?-’ the man nodded looking around at the other couples in the room seeming uninterested. The women continued  ‘Do you remember that day? People try to forget, Harry, but I still see the crumbling cities when I close my eyes. We owe a lot to the SkyRen brothers, the world would not have been restored without them.’
‘Shh now Hanna, don’t let the Team here you speak of Dein,’ he said slowly.
‘I know, but don’t you think its time they move on?’ she looked around anxiously and whispered, ‘Especially Jesse SkyRen? Do you believe the legend that the brothers were linked? I heard that it was destined for Dein to give his life for his brother, there was nothing anyone could have done.’ Harry seemed not to be listening, as though he heard the words too many times before. But Jesse shuffled closer trying to catch anything this women would say. ‘Its so heroic, I knew Dein, not well of course but he was in the line -  ’ and then her eyes met Jesse’s and she recoiled.
‘Jesse, I’m sorry-,’ but he didn’t stay to listen to her rambling apology. He shoved past guest, the room didn’t feel welcoming anymore, he had to get away. It was stifling, he felt as though he would suffocate. His brother was dead. Dein was dead and it was all Jesse’s fault. His brother had always been far too protective, but Jesse never truly believed he would give his life for him. The battle was won, but he’d lost his brother, he was alone. Jesse stumbled through the gold and silver double doors and found himself in a silent corridor, lit only by the flickering light of candles hanging in intervals down the long dark passageway. He stopped, and slid down the wall until he was curled on the floor trying to contain the grief at the news of his brothers death. He tried to breath through lungs that seemed to constrict, as his sobs broke through the eerily silent corridor.

Then his head exploded with pain, as images flashed through his mind. Both himself and Dein were on top of a building in a place Jesse easily recognized as San Francisco, by the faded red bridge that connected one side of the city to the other. The place was covered in the desert sand that had engulfed the world long ago, and from their advantage point Jesse could see that most of the buildings had collapsed. The city was uncanny, as smog rolled below in the deserted streets creating disconcerting shapes of the faces of the dead. The wind howled like a wailing mother through the alleyways making Jesse’s hair on the back of his neck stand on end.
‘There coming’ Dein whispered, ‘Get ready.’
 Jesse tensed ready to fight, as the rhythmical drumbeat of thousands of feet hitting concrete was heard.

The images blurred and the scene shifted again. Jesse saw the team fighting an onslaught of warriors that never seemed to end. The two brothers were still on top of the building shooting into the fray below. Jesse’s arms ached and he moved sluggishly to pull another arrow from his back, his brother looked over concern written on his face, but Jesse shrugged and kept firing. That was when he realized he was not in control of his actions, he was watching the fight, but his limbs were moving beyond his control. Time seemed to speed up as more and more worriers fell. But then everything changed as he watched Hale drop to her knees, clutching her side in obvious pain. He instinctively went to go down the building to help her, but strong arms wrapped tightly around his mid drift.
“Jesse no! Stay up here with me-’
‘Dein let go! Its Hale!’
‘I know, I know, but sometimes-’
‘No!’
 Jesse made to leap down the fire exit, but Dein caught him around the ankle, and he fell to the floor. Instantly Dein pinned Jesse’s body down to the gravel holding him with his weight, tiny stones dug into Jesse’s cheek, as he struggled to lift his older brother’s weight off him. The boys struggled with one another fighting and grabbing at each others clothing and hair.
‘Dein, you do not have to look after me. Let. Go!’
‘You’re my brother, you’re my responsibility.’
‘I was fine before you found me! And I’ll be fine without you, I don’t need you Dein!’
He saw his brother visibly recoil, and open his mouth to reply. Jesse wanted to apologies feeling guilt churning in his stomach, to say of course he needed his brother, they were nothing without each other. However before he could utter a word the sound of a helicraft made them both pause. Dein, who still had Jesse pinned to the floor looked at the helicopter, begging it to be Captain Jack. But as the Hydron Sign came into view, Dein shoved his little brothers head to the floor, covering his body, as the bullets were fired.
   

 Jesse was covered in his brothers blood and tears were streaming down his dirt encrusted face, leaving rivulets of water. He sat hunched in on himself in the aircraft, trying to stay away from everyone’s pitting stares and their comforting hands. He didn’t want to be comforted, all he saw were his brothers lifeless eyes every time he closed his own. It was his fault that Dein was dead and Jesse knew it should have been him. He was the one who made the mistake to move from his position, how many times had Dein told him that if you have orders, follow them.
The battle was won the others kept telling him, but all Jesse heard was a faint ringing in his head, as he replayed the last hour again in his mind. He wanted to escape, he needed to change the past, he could not let his brother die.
He squeezed his eyes shut imaging his brothers voice, ‘Jesse, Jesse wake up, Jesse I need you to open your eyes now.’ He didn’t want to, he didn’t want to see his brother’s limp body again.
‘Jesse please open your eyes.’ His brother implored, sounding desperate. He didn’t want to upset his brother anymore, he’d disappointed him enough. Therefore Jesse slowly prized his glued eyelids open, and realised he was back in the present with Dein’s face anxiously bending over him. He lay on a moldy sofa as he finally grasped why he had seen the images of the future, he was supposed to change their roles. Some other force wanted Jesse to protect his brother and he would comply willingly, he would never see Dein’s lifeless form again.      




Sunday, 13 October 2013

A Life Wasted


A Life Wasted 

This is a piece I wrote in my creative writing class all about 2 un-likley people meeting in a pub. One women from high end London who has been spoiled her whole life and a military man of 25 years who has had a troubled past and deep secret.

MAYXX   


Jane Evens gets out of her brand new Mercedes outside The Crown Pub in a quaint Village in Berkshire, her location, not his, and saunters over to the main entrance of the pub in her subtle Jimmy Chow boots. As she opens the heavy oak door she notices him immediately. The stranger she is here to see stands out, he is a figure of great strength, but looks uncomfortable in this ordinary setting, he is sitting too still, tension rising up and down his body. He has the posture of a man born for the military, Jane knows instantly that he can handle himself in a fight; and like James he shows his power through his presence. The stranger’s hair is so black that it is almost blue in the light from the fire, but sticks out in all angles. He looks up and her breath catches. For an instant she is teleported back all those years ago, when she met a man with the same eyes, eyes that had seen too much sorrow for a 25-year-old.
The stranger, whose name is Tony Ivers, stands with a grace born from a family bred to fight. Jane finally gathers up her composure walking forward with her head held high and her hand outstretched. He takes her hand, holding her gaze steadily; it’s a firm handshake, but she already knew it would be. As they sink down into the two old leather armchairs, she notices the gold band circling his left finger, but Jane doesn’t comment, she already knows.
“You wanted to see me, Mrs. Evens?” he says in a husky Irish tone. She notices the glimpse of diffiance in his eyes, and she knows that he doesn’t want her here. She nods firmly and with ease produces a set of papers from inside her briefcase. The stranger takes them and she looks away. She is not a woman comfortable with grief or sympathy. The fire crackles merrily in the grate, indifferent to the strained atmostsephere that encircles the two infront of it. The smell of winter clings to people’s clothing as they walk in; it will snow soon. This stranger reminds her too much of James, a painful feeling that she does not dwell on long. She notices, however, that Tony takes bad news like James did, he is far too still, but the angur and pain is hidden from her, by an unshakable emotionless mask. The news on the papers confirms the death of James Dylan Ivers, a man she thought she knew very well, a man who she loved dearly once upon a time.
“They didn’t inform you then?” she asks in a clipped tone. James had put her as his next of kin, a mistake in her eyes. Tony wouldn’t meet her gaze, but she could see that he was fighting to keep the emotionless mask intact. This man had taken James away from her all those years ago; he had the ring to prove it. However as she watched this man whose hands were shaking and stubbled jaw clenched too tight with grief, she knew she had to explain.
 “I met James about fifteen years ago when I took a road trip down the West Coast of America. He was beautiful, the spitting image of what I imagine a storybook hero to look like. He was my own Clark Kent.”
Tony stiffened, and finally looked up. Jane could see that he had regained his mask, but anger flashed in those deep blue eyes.  “I sped down the highway in my father’s old impala. I met him in a small town near Long Beach, Los Angeles. Do you remember James telling you about that place? You spent sometime in my house down there didn’t you?” Tony gave no answer but rage still simmered, and Jane felt grim satisfaction at this.  “It was late so I went to visit the local bar down the road. It was nothing special just your average all American beach hut, but I feel in love with it instantly. The smell comes back to me when I least expect it, of sun, sea and beer on a hot day. His skin smelt like the sun didn’t it?” Jane asked, but suddenly felt a stab of guilt, she watched Tony’s mask slip as he recoiled from the memories she was thrusting at him.  She realized what she was doing and almost apologized, but her pride stopped her with long lost pain that this man had caused.
“I think about that evening a lot since his death. I’d had too much to drink that night, but I remember the exact moment when I looked up and saw him stroll into the crowded bar.” Jane looks longingly out of the steamed up windows to the cold overcast sky. She remembers this part well, she replays it too herself when her husband hasn’t come home for over a week. Staying at work he says, but Jane knows he is in bed with that blond secutary.
“His eyes were bright blue, a color you couldn’t forget, it’s imprinted onto me and sometimes I catch it in the corner of my eye. Do you remember when he was angry his eyes would change to an almost violet color?” she stopped, looking up, and was please to see him give a slight nod.  
“As he strolled over towards me with a grin that spelt danger I remember warmth flooding through me, it was obvious I had caught his attention. He had the same accent as you, but of course I’d never been to England then and I found it hard to place. Did you ever go and meet his family in Ireland?” Jane didn’t wait for a response. “I always wanted to know if they were as bad as he made them out to be.” She grins wickedly at Tony, who is almost shaking with rage, but Jane laughs without humor and continues.
“That night we slept together. And like I knew he would, he joined me on my journey. In all the time I knew James, he has never once explained himself. I remember he told me that he had time to kill, so we squeezed into the impala and kept driving.” Jane has been staring at Tony; just above the eyes, she can’t seem to bring herself to meet the furious gaze. The relationship she and James kept up all these years, with the flirtatious letters, was all one sided she knew. She had fallen in love with James from the moment she met him, but deep down she knew he was never hers. Jane Evens suddenly understands how cruel she was being to the man sitting opposite her, but for the last seven years he had everything she wanted.   
“Did you love him?” Tony asks in a tone that is not far from livid. He had always despised Jane’s presence in his partner’s life. However she had tried, she really had. He would never know that she was the one to pick out that beloved golden band that was wrapped around his finger. 
“I loved him and I think to some extent he loved me,” Tony growled, a low sound full of warning. Yet Jane put her hands up in mock surrender and laughed at his tone. “But I knew even then that we came from different worlds and different places. He had to go back to the military and I had to go back to the life of money and status. James was never going to be able to provide the life I needed.”
At this Jane felt a wave of grief that she was not expecting. She could have been James’. She could have been the wife to a man who would have adored her, even if it meant living in a house that was more shed than home. But it was too late now, it was time to leave, she had enraged Tony enough; he would want nothing more to do with her. Jane would be the bad taste in his mouth, which he would soon forget.

Mrs. Evens never left a door in her life open, and this one had been swinging wide for too long. Yet her story wasn’t here; the chapter had been closed a long time ago. She belonged back in London, in her house that cost more than this entire village, in an area that had devoted itself on appearances. She gathered up her handbag, said a final goodbye, which in his rage Tony barley acknowledged, and walked out of the old pub door. Jane gave a final glace over her shoulder, and then, strolled into the falling snow.   

Thursday, 10 October 2013

I'm Back

I'm Back

sorry I haven't written for a long time, but starting university has been tough, but I'm going to try and write something every week maybe friday because thats my day off yaya!!.
So i'm doing Creative Writing at Uni and its amazing. i've actually got my second seminar in an hour. I'm learning all about the characters and how you make them more "rounded" but for now give me a break i'm just going to write my agsty fiction still.

I was bored in a late lecture on Tuesday and my mind wondered off to" Supernatural" and if anyone hasn't seen the series start watching I may be a little bit obsessed. Sam and Dean God they are amazing!! Anyway this is what I wrote. I wanted to put it on here rather than fanfiction because I don't know where its going and obviously its just an extract.

Dean lay on the floor of the old deserted warehouse tears streaming down his face as he held his brother in his lap. After all they had been through this was the end, and it all Dean's fault. God hadnt played a part, the angels hadn't forced his brothers hand, this was all Dean. He was the one that pushed his brother into closing the gates of hell and now he had lost the most precious possession in the world, Sam Winchester, Dean's only family left. Sammy was gone forever and he had made Dean promise not to find the loop hole to leave him at peace. Death himself had granted Sam his wish, he wast leaving the gates of heaven this time. 
Dean wanted so badly to apologise to his brother to tell him that he was sorry for making him choose between a life of normalcy and the life of the hunter. All he had ever wanted Sammy to have was a life full kids and family, to die peacefully of old age, no this painful process Dean had had to watch over the past few months of Sam chocking on his  own blood. The Angel had done nothing but slow the inevitable   

I want this to be good so I'm going to start again...






Monday, 3 June 2013

Letters


Letters 

I don't know where this came from but I had to write it down. I want to know more and honestly I need to know if this idea can take me anywhere. Maybe  I will start from the beginning of Harry and James' relationship and see where it takes me. 

As always, Hope you like it 

May xxx

P.S The first lines are from the song 'Dear Darling' by Olly Murs  



Dear Lieutenant   
Please excuse my writing, I can’t stop my hands from shaking because I’m cold and I’m alone tonight. A dark figure wrote, but the ink was blotchy and ran off the page. The room shook again and was a blaze with a fierce orange light, however the figure in the corner of the small attic room hardly flinched. He kept writing almost frantic now, the small light from a flicking candle almost toppled over as the room shook again.  I miss you, and I haven’t slept since I last saw you.  My dreams are plagued with your face; we did a lot together didn’t we? I certainly learnt a lot from you. Do you remember that night by the lake? When I punched you? It’s all I can think about since you left, because that’s when it all began, this stupid adventure that you dragged me through, but I don’t regret a single moment; it ruined and revived me. You made my life begin darling, and I don’t regret anything, even now as I’m writing in an old attic room, with the world falling around me. I know I promised you I would never be cliché but all I have ever wanted is to be with you, and you never saw that. I know you believed I needed more, but you were all that I needed, I need you to know that. But now its dark, and everyone is telling me to leave, your not coming, I’m not going to see you again, and the worst part is that maybe their right and you don’t want me anymore. I’ve forgiven you and I don’t blame you for not wanting me, and yet I will not leave. I’ve got no place to go, and why should it matter? I will be gone from this world sooner rather than later. I just wanted to see you, one last time my love. But no matter, England will not fall tonight. My death will prevent thousands of lives from suffering, and what was it you used to say "The Needs Of Many Outweigh The Needs Of One." You were right all along… it is not illogical to try and save one at the risk of so many.  
James, the man of barley twenty-eight, squinted at the writing trying to make sure it was the right words to end a relationship that had swallowed his whole life. But it was all too late and now he wished he had told him these words long ago, before this war, before it was all too late to say goodbye.
I love you and please my dearest, never forget me. This is not a letter of guilt, but rather one to say goodbye. One to remind you to remember me not as you see me now, but as I was that first summer, before all of it… before the lies, the deceit and the running. Before… before the fight… back in the hotel room over looking the village in Atlandsa, I hope you remember that night? Because it’s the only memory that has kept me alive these last couple of months, and I hope the memory of my lips keep you awake as much as they have kept me up in the cold night, here in Densia.
Forever yours
JAMES

“James! We can’t stay here any longer, we need to move.” Jenny came hurrying into the small attic room above her house. James looked up almost lost in the memories of warm blue skies and the feeling of the grass beneath his fingertips, and lips that were sweet with the taste of strawberries. But that memory had happened so long ago James had trouble remembering if it was all just a dream. And then it hit him, he knew in that moment that he would never see those green eyes or hear the warm laugh again, tears filled his bright blue eyes in the gloom, but he was strong he would not fall after coming so far for the man who would not say goodbye.  
“I can’t leave. He wouldn’t want me to leave. "The needs of many outweigh the needs of one.” He whispered the line again, a line that was almost becoming a chant on his dry, cracked lips. Gone was the boy of twenty full of life and ready to fight for his country and what he believed in. What was left, a mere eight years later, was a man who could have been seventy, living in a past that was a lot lighter and had no mention of pain.
“James listen to me, it’s been four hours. He isn’t coming.”
“I know” the man said tiredly, and felt the tears, which he had tried to stem, form once again in his eyes. “But I can’t leave. You have to go, I cannot keep you safe any longer.” She had tears in her eyes as well. His heart broke for her, they had become close over the last year, but he would not let her fall into the trap he was now ensnared in.
“You need to go there is nothing here any longer” he stood and hugged her gently as she placed fragile arms around his broad shoulders.
“James come with us, its not too late…” he shook his head before she could carry on, he didn’t want her to break the resolve that his chant had barely created. “I cant you know that,” he swallowed grasping the letter tightly in his hand. “But would you give him this letter? I mean only if you see him or if he comes to find you?” he asked, and was ashamed to find that his voice shook with suppressed grief. Jenny gently took the letter from his shaking hand and he watched as she placed it carefully in her coat pocket. The room shook once again and he grabbed hold of the chair to stop himself from hurting the frail woman in front of his broad form. It was time for her to leave, he gently walked her to the trap door which led to the rest of the house and then with one final frightened look she fled. This town would soon be turned to ash, but he was happy to let it crumple around him. They had found him and he would not fight any longer, he had nothing left to fight for, let ashes turn to ashes.  

Yet James felt weak and hated it. He had never been a weak man. He had always been a leader to the men that had followed him into the battlefield. Yet Harry O’Shay had changed the whole world around and there was no way he could right it again. Once Harry was gone, James had run and tried so hard to not look back, but life was now dull and meaningless without him. There was no future with or without the man who had strolled into his life all those years ago, and now, as James looked around him at the destroyed house with the sound of the air raid going off outside, he knew that there really was no turning back now. He will be safe, England will not fall, and your mother did not die in vain. This sentence had become the only thing keeping him locked in this room, as the sinking realization that Harry was not coming to his rescue seeped in. A nasty voice inside of his head whispered he has given up on you, like everyone else. James Riley, a hero? Give me a god dam break. But the voice was right; it was his fault, everything that had happened was his Goddamn fault. Why hadn’t he listened to Harry all those moths ago? And why for the life of him did he face this terrible problem alone without the comforting hand in his? But James held on to the idea that his lover would live even with the Riley line dying out with him. And maybe, just maybe, there was an after life. James smiled as he thought of his men and how they used to tease James about his idealistic ideas about there being something more than just the darkness of closing your eyes for eternal sleep. 

Harry’s hand shook as he read the letter, his own howl of pain ripped through the quite undisturbed churchyard. He was back in England, finally back with the one he loved, but he had let James down. The letter had come too late, and by the time Harry had frantically arrived at the small village in which the letter described there was nothing left. His hands shook, as his body trembled with grief, but the comforting hand on his shoulder annoyed him. No one understood what they went through, James had tried everything in his power to be allowed to be with the one he loved in this hypocritical world that had done everything to destroy them. James had done everything to keep them together but in a moment of pure stupidity it had been Harry who had left James sleeping in that grim Hotel room after their fight. this thought made Harry's knees go weak and he fell to the floor.


However he would not fail James again, he would not become the Enobarbus of this story. He would take up his lovers place and fight where he had left off. This morning the war had ended, and Harry knew, even if the world did not, that it was because of his lover. Their destinies really hand been intertwined long before the war, long before they had even met. Destiny, fate or even God, whatever you wanted to call it, Harry had ceased to care after the horrors of war, which, had seemed to burn all that was left of his faith, or so he had believed.  Yet with the burial of the only person he had ever truly let inside of his walls, he found himself pleading almost begging, to anyone or anything that may slightly care about what was happening on this violent planet called earth, that James was safe, comfortable and happy. Harry knew this was the least his general deserved, with the sacrifice that he had made to and for his country. He truly was the best man there ever was, and although Harry had no medal or trophy to give his lover, he knew that James’ team, who were waiting for Harry to come back from the side of James’ grave, knew what a true hero he was. James Riley did not die in Vain as Harry O'Shay would always remember the man he loved as a hero and the legend of the team who had lost their leader would last a long time after the members had joined him in the earth.