August 29 by planet p

Disclaimer I don't own the Fugitive or any of its characters.


As he shook hands with Philip Gerard on the steps of the courthouse in which he'd been, minutes earlier, exonerated of a crime he hadn't committed, Richard Kimble felt something in him changing. A new life awaited him now, a new life free of running, free of fear. It was almost too much to bear, but he'd spent four years bearing just that and, he thought, he would bear this, too. Though it may not have felt like it yet, a new life, and a new future – a real future – was just what he needed, and, in time, he would come to see this clearly.

Without a backward glance, he left the courthouse steps and strode towards his new life, and, as fragile and uncertain as it now seemed, he knew, as he passed two uniformed police officers, that it was already beginning to solidify into something real, something tangible.

He was finally free.

Finally free to be a person again, and to live again. To live without running. Once, running had been the only constant in his life. Now, the running was over. He had faced justice and won. Now, he faced the future.

Glancing across at the woman accompanying him, he knew that it would be all right this time around. As if she had sensed his feelings, Jean Carlisle offered him a smile. He returned it gladly.

This time… he had a life to look forward to.