He Will Cry
by obaona
A/N: I said I'd write something happy next. I lied. ;) Quite some time ago, I saw the Future Tense Challenge (must find link), and wanted to do something for it - but couldn't think of anything until last night, ironically breaking a spell of Writer's Block.
He will
cry.
As a toddler, he will learn to run – and run fast, too fast, falling and
scraping his knee. He’ll cry, but his aunt will pick him up, murmuring
reassurances, telling him he’s a brave boy. He’ll sniffle, and hold it in,
because he is a brave boy.
He will tell his uncle that he hates him because he won’t tell him about his
father, and then run into his room and cry. He’ll cry for the father he doesn’t
know, for telling the closest thing to a father he has that he hates him. He’ll
stop, eventually, come out and apologize. And for a moment, his aunt will smile
– because this young blond-haired boy they’ve taken in has taken both their
hearts, and because she wishes nothing more than for the two of them to have
this closeness.
He’ll take the teasing at school in stride, glaring and muttering under his
breath. He won’t protest when his best friend, Biggs, quietly takes the teasers
out for a talk, and they come back cowed. He won’t tell his friend when they
tease him anyway, out of Bigg’s sight. They’ll tease him about being an orphan,
and not wanted by his own aunt and uncle. They will tease him about wanting to
be a great pilot. He will hold in the tears until he goes home, because he knows
that there, he can cry.
He’ll cry without shame over the bodies of his aunt and uncle. They will come
hot and fast, the showing of his great pain. Yes, he will feel pain. He will cry
for what he’s lost and never realized he had. He’ll cry because if he hadn’t
gotten that one droid, they would be alive. And he will cry ... because now he
can leave, and never look back.
After the celebration, completely sloshed due to his new friend’s influence, he
will cry for the dead. He’ll do it alone, and think about how little he really
knows – because he didn’t know that adventure would be like that. He’ll tell
himself, firmly, that he’ll cry for his friends, when they die. But he will not
cry until then.
He’ll cry when his father tells him who he is. He won’t at first, dry-eyed and
shocked, and then it will come in great wracking sobs, and he’ll wonder if he’s
crying over his best friend, his father, or his lost innocence. He’ll cry in
rage and betrayal. But he’ll pick up and move on.
He will cry when his father dies looking into his eyes. He’ll know that he’s the
only one grieving, and he’ll give those tears gladly.
When he loses himself to the Dark, he’ll cry in remorse.
He’ll cry when his students die.
When he is left alone again, he will cry.
When he marries, he will not cry, except for one tear, which he reserves solely
for her; because she will see his weakness, and still see him.
On what he knows could be her deathbed, he will cry. He’ll think of all the
tears he’s shed, all of the tears that will come. He will think of the meaning
of his crying, and wonder if it is punishment, that he weeps so.
He will cry when his son is born.
He’ll cry when he dies. As his son will shed tears, he will shed his own. But it
will be the rarest of tears, mixed joy and pain. He will know his time has come.
He will die, and then he will know no more tears.
You will cry, child, when I tell you this. You will cry, dear mother, for your
son. My words will torment you and reassure you. You will wonder who I am, some
strange woman in the market telling you this of the child you carry. But you
will think of my words, and when you die, you will think of your son, and know
that he will be all right.
You will think of your husband, of the paths he will take, to cause your son to
cry.
I will tell you not to fear; I will not fear. For when I tell your dark husband
of these things, he too will cry.
And all will be as it will be.
[finis]