A/N: This is the fourth in the Five Random Songs series, originally posted over on Livejournal. This one is inspired by The Dirt Is Your Lover Now by Thea Gilmore.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be either.

WARNING: character death

Spoilers: None, but it's set several years post-BDM

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The Dirt Is Your Lover Now by Thea Gilmore

You fell in love with a hurricane
You were torn like a road map and lost in the crowd
And the dirt is your lover now

He can still hear the bullets firing, like a sick refrain in the back of his mind. He wonders if the noise will ever leave him or if it will be the last thing he hears as he fades out of this world. As he goes to join her…

It wasn't supposed to be this way. When they finally got together, everyone objected at the idea of such a sweet, young thing with such a mean, old man. They tried to dissuade her with talk of how she would wind up a young widow, alone and broken with a passel of kids to raise and only memories of him to keep her warm in the cold nights.

She'd laughed.

He remembered that now, and wondered if on some level she'd known how it would really end. She'd always had an inside track on what lay ahead – had she known he'd be the one standing over six feet of fresh earth with what felt like six feet more pressing on his chest? And, if she had, how could she not have warned him?

Fingernails, thorn trees, my fickle heart too
So many things in this sad little world grow back
Except for you

They'd had so little time together, in the end. Just five short years, although they'd loved worth a lifetime. He would swear he can remember each day as if it was etched on his soul. Every one of her smiles. Every laugh. Every time that they teased. Every time that they touched.

She bought him a capture as a wedding present, and pushed him to use it all the time, wanting each moment of their lives together to be recorded. He's never been so grateful for anything in his life. Late at night, he plays them back compulsively, his finger reaching out to trace the line of her face, so real he can almost feel the warmth of her flesh. Can almost forget the moment when he saw her torn apart by cruel metal and the agony that blossomed on her face.

But still, at the back of his mind, the bullets ricochet and the pain keeps tearing through him by degrees.

He shifts the weight of the sobbing child in his arms, one hand moving to brush the dark curls in comfort. Then, he tips his head to the place where his heart lies and walks slowly back down the hillside. The silhouette of the headstone stands stark and lonely on the horizon, bathed in the watery rays of the sunset. And the sky cries.

River Tam Cobb

Beloved Wife and Mother

2501–2526

Taken to the Sky

There are fists on the front page and blood in the sky
There's no shoulder strong enough when the clouds start to cry
Did you propose to the bedrock on your way underground?
'Cause the dirt is your lover now