A/N: This story...Well. It has everything to do with the song Over the Pond by the Album Leaf. Which is why I'm going to give you a yousendit link so you can download the song and listen to it while you read this. Trust me, it'll make you feel..something. I was listening to it and suddenly this was written. I don't know. I just think it's important for you to be listening to this song while reading it. So, here's the link. http(colon)(slash)(slash)s45(dot)yousendit(dot)com/d(dot)aspx?id(equalsign)1OZF8IV96QED2R3LYI5DURRDA (well, that was entirely too difficult. i swear it will be worth it.) Well, that link is refusing to work. Whatever. If you want to hear the song, let me know and I can email it to you.
The snow begins to fall, softly and slowly. He's watching their daughter as she runs around outside from the window of her old house. It's empty now, barren, desolate. He doesn't know why he's here, just something he felt he had to do. It was never his home, but it was always hers. Theirs, her and her mother.
It's a gray winter day and he doesn't feel a thing as he walks slowly around the house, taking in the empty rooms. Her empty teenage bedroom. He wishes he could remember her exact face the first time he ever told her he loved her. He's sure it was in this bedroom, on that bed. It was years ago and it hardly matters now.
Her mother is suddenly standing in the kitchen. She is old, but she looks so much older. A tired face with tired eyes. She is watching him cry on her daughter's bed. She sits next to him silently, a hand resting on the center of his back. He turns his head towards her, leaning into her shoulder. He needs her now, if only because she is some sort of reminder of what is gone, who is gone. If only because she is stronger than him.
Everything is cold as he steps out of the bedroom. The snow is falling harder now and he is only reminded of her face and her flushed cheeks and her blue eyes against the pure white of winter. He stumbles at the memory, but then his daughter comes running into the house. She runs to him, throwing her arms around his knees. He looks down at her and tries to smile. When she returns it, it kills him. It's her mother's smile.
"Daddy, come play with me!" His heart rises because she is happy again. It has been three months and she is returning to herself. He, on the other hand, is slipping farther and farther away.
"Go ask grandma," he says, his voice faltering, sounding more hollow than he had intended. He tries to pretend with his daughter. Pretend that he isn't dying without her. Pretend that sleeping alone in that bed is fine with him. Pretend that it doesn't affect him anymore.
She walks off to find Lorelai and he feels relieved. He lets the pretense fall away and leans his forehead against the wall of the foyer, closing his eyes tight. He thinks if he closes them tight enough, he will squeeze the pain right out of him. It never works.
Outside, there are two mirror images of her and they are laughing as the snow gets caught in their hair, their eyelashes. There is a strange feeling in his face. The feeling of the corners of his mouth trying to pull upward. He relents and smiles softly against the glass of the window.