Work Text:
Cesare found himself, oddly, at peace.
Being murdered sucked, being abused and mistreated for 1,000 years sucked, and suddenly being 1,025 after what he can only assume as a post-mortem clarity, yeah, that sucked too.
His back hurt, his joints screamed when the weather was slightly off, but he wasn’t alone.
Conrad would willingly carry him around, Frances would give him hot water bottles and heating pads, and Allan would make him shockingly good food!
And then, Steve.
He’d visit.
Often.
They’d talk, share stories, Steve would give him little trinkets, and after a while just never left him alone.
For the first time since his death, he had company.
And he was sad.
There was a time coming, they all knew it, but that never made it easier.
Days where he couldn’t breathe too deep came more and more frequently.
Then, days where he couldn't even walk. And Conrad couldn’t carry him everywhere.
So, he was bedridden.
Frances insisted, said it was to keep him in check, but the knew.
They all did.
So now, here he was, listening to music he never knew he’d like, jazz he thinks, and resting.
His eyes had shut some time ago, each breath audible.
He knew he wasn’t alone.
Turns out, death, the way it was supposed to be, was peaceful.
He could hear Penny talking, her and Conrad were definitely flirting, no respect for their elders dammit!
Then, he heard Steve. And the other clown.
Frances and Billie had gotten together years ago, he could hear their smiles as they discussed their wedding.
Allan and Tim were in some Dee-An-Dee thing, they tried explaining it once but he didn’t get any of it, he always did suck at math.
He liked the stories they came up with, though.
He wasn’t alone.
He was glad he had them now.
He hated being alone.
Then, it came.
One of them cracked first.
He couldn’t open his eyes, he was so tired.
One of them whispered to him. Conrad, he had began growing a beard.
I’ll take care of them, he said, you just sleep.
So, he did.
Surrounded by friends and family.
It was so peaceful.