And Then Wrote My Comments And Cried Some More - Tumblr Posts

...and it's Jake. it's jake, not Hangman, not Seresin, hasn't been for a long time, not when he's lost track of how many times the quiet shuffle-thud of a warm presence settling to the ground next to him that's just a little too heavy and off-kilter to be sober pulls him into the present.

And every time, even though he knows those green eyes can't see him, he rests a hand just close enough to imagine he can feel the solid heat of Jake's shoulder beneath his palm. Every time, he lets his eyes linger as long as he can over the fine lines of gold etching themselves through his hair and the finer ones drawing away from his eyes and says the same words he always does.

He takes comfort in the times when Jake says I know as if he means it. As if he can hear him over the sound of Dagger Two is hit.

He wishes he could've told him I gave em hell.

Eventually, he gets the chance.

He's pulled into...not the present, but something resembling awareness. The familiar shuffle-thud sounds different this time, and he can't place why until his palm hits the roughness of a flightsuit and those seaglass eyes finally finally meet his. His grin is blinding.

Bradshaw, as I live and breathe.

And really, there's only one thing to say.

too little too late