Work Text:
A new star lit up the sky when he lost Cole.
At least, that’s what he tried to tell himself. It was the only thing that kept him sane; that the stars held the spirits of lost souls here on Earth, leaving his son to watch over him. There was only so much Hank could do with that thought, though. He was never a spiritual or religious man, so slowly, the stars he desperately clutched at started to fizzle out of his vision until he was left with a darkness that swallowed under him despite every last desperate claw to stay above the surface.
Time became hard to track in those years. With no light to look toward, nothing to feel strongly toward except his late son, everything good and bad became one apathetic smear. To Hank, it was a fate worse than death.
Until the day that through the old, rotted floorboards of his heart came an inkling of blue. Blue that appeared in the smallest splashes, like a triangle on a jacket breast or the stripe of an arm band. A blue that came to mind with every stiff smile that grew looser with time until it was finally genuine.
That morning, standing in the middle of an evacuated Detroit, that splash of blue burst through the cracks in the walls of his heart, and what was once empty and hollow was now swallowed in a flood of blue orchids; a hopeful step forward. New life.
New love.
Being alive didn’t become easy. The nights where he tried shutting all of the love in his life away didn’t disappear, and no matter how hard he tried to shove the blue orchids back through the cracks they appeared from, they always seemed to swell back toward him, enveloping him in a warm eternity. A presence that would be a rock beside him, whether he liked it or not.
Hank laid the bouquet of blue orchids sideways in front of the rough headstone, a thumb swiping away the hints of growth within its engraved letters. Another year had passed since Cole returned to the stars, the burn behind his nose all too familiar to him.
A hand on his shoulder, rubbing up and down. When Hank glanced back, there kneeled his rock, brown eyes beaming with pride. Pride in him for the hurdles he leapt over.
Slowly, Hank stood, sparing one last glance at the headstone before turning on his heel and walking away with his head held high, new love following with a hand now in his own.
He wasn’t happy, but once again, he was ready to make another step forward.
For the first time in a long time, Hank was okay.