Work Text:
Asa Crowley-Fell hadn’t attended a Pride parade in decades when he met Anthony. The entire thing had been ruined when he was twenty-three. He had been heartbroken and alone when Derek had found him.
Now, though, he had Anthony by his side. He had his husband, he had a little family with the children (Adam, Warlock, and Joshua— they may not be properly related, but that didn’t stop the Crowley-Fells from treating them as their own blood; it was the same with the trio’s daughters, Ruth and June), he had a peaceful retirement and a brilliant community of friends that brought him so much joy. Derek may have passed on by now, but “alone” was certainly not a word that could be used to describe Asa any longer.
Pride was now a family affair— the whole lot of them set out on the London streets together (dear Ruth and June were still so young and kept safely with a babysitter) dressed to the nines in riotous colors that had so overwhelmed Asa when he was young.
Adam and Warlock and Joshua marched and sang and cheered, flag wrapped around their shoulders, through the summer heat, and Asa and Anthony followed as long as they could.
They were in their seventies now, and Anthony’s knees had begun to ache, Asa held his back stiff and straight in his own advanced age. The pair of them eventually went off on their own, fulfilling their own tradition.
The husbands, hand in hand, stationed themselves together on the very bridge Asa had haunted all those years ago. They stood and offered hugs for the rejected and whispered hope to those who felt alone, quieting tears and bringing new laughter.
They stood there on that bridge and made it a thing of hope, not desperation.