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mithenTitle: Chapter Four: Here in My Heart, I Do Believe
Pairing/Characters: Kal/Bruce
Notes: "The House of the Earth" is an AU in which a few thousand Kryptonians escaped the destruction of Krypton to flee to Earth and conquer its people.
Rating: G
Word Count: 2600
Summary: On the way to Smallville, Kal and Bruce pick up some companions.
Bruce slowed the truck as he pulled up alongside a young man in a dusty jeans jacket walking down the road. "Need a lift?"
The man looked up at the cab and grinned, his hazel eyes sharp under a thatch of unruly blond hair. "I could use one, perhaps. Depends on where you're going."
"To which House are you bound, brother?"
The man's smile widened, and instead of answering the rote question with the name of the House, he said, "Why, to the greatest House of all, brother."
As Kal stared in confusion, Bruce said easily, "Then you must be bound for the House of the Earth."
"I am indeed," said the traveler.
"Hop in," said Bruce, tilting his head toward the back of the truck.
The man clambered into the back of the flatbed, tossing his backpack in. "Name's Pete," he called through the back window as he sat down in the back.
"I'm Bruce, this is Clark."
Pete grinned at Kal. "Where you headed?"
Kal found himself smiling back. "We're headed a ways west still. Going to see my folks in Smallville, they run the plantation there. Haven't been back for years."
Pete arranged his backpack on the bed of the truck and sat down on it. "That's interesting," he said. "Because I'm from Smallville. Born and raised there." He looked up and met Kal's horrified eyes. "And Jonathan and Martha don't have any son I know of." There was a long pause, and then the smile stretched his mouth again. "But if they're willing to vouch for you when we get there, I'll assume they've got a good reason...brother."
Kal saw Bruce let out a small breath of relief. "Thank you," he said.
Pete waved a dismissive hand. "There aren't many people on the plantation been there their whole life, we've got a lot of people coming and going. I don't think anyone else will call you on it. But I'll tell you what," he said, "Come back here and I'll fill you in on some of the names and things you should know, so you'll be more convincing." His smile went a little wistful. "I'd love to talk about home."
Kal moved into the back of the truck and he and Pete spent the time between stops talking about Pete's home. After a couple of hours, Kal felt like he'd practically been there. Pete described every building, every dog, every place a young boy would love to play, fields of corn and wheat and soybeans.
"Wait, what about the iao?"
Pete chuckled. "We're so far away from any major city it isn't worth the time to grow it. We mostly grow food for other plantations. Vegetables. Fruit. Jonathan's pumpkins are unbelievable."
From Pete's descriptions it quickly became clear to Kal that Smallville was like no plantation he'd seen or heard of. Out in the middle of the continent, far from any of the areas Kryptonians lived, Jonathan and Martha "oversaw" something much closer to a community farm than a plantation. And more--a major stop on the underground network of connections among the slave community. From the way Pete described the movement of people on and off the plantation, it seemed very likely that Smallville housed runaways, runaways that stopped there for a time to rest and help and then moved on...where?
Smallville was a mystery, and Kal had the impression there were still-greater mysteries beyond it.
At their third stop for the day, Bruce picked up another passenger claiming his destination was "the House of the Earth.". The new arrival was also blond, with green eyes and a small goatee. Oliver turned out to be just as talkative as Pete, but with a difference: where Pete mostly wanted to talk about his home, Oliver seemed much more interested in talking about himself. The rest of the day was a constant stream of stories about Oliver's heroic exploits, most of which seemed to involve bedding some very grateful woman at the end of it. The other three listened rather incredulously during their stops, with Pete casting Kal "can you believe this guy?" looks every few minutes. His casual camraderie both warmed and embarrassed Kal; he found he liked Pete a lot and was increasingly uncomfortable with his deception. The silver collar around his neck reminded him that it was Clark Pete was becoming friends with--Clark, a fellow human, not an alien in disguise.
As night fell, Oliver and Pete were still with them, so they pulled off the road at a shelter, a tiny lean-to with a small fireplace. "Just in time," Oliver said, looking at the sky; storm clouds were massing on the horizon and the wind was starting to pick up. They finished moving into the shelter just as the first drops of rain began to spatter the ground.
"Ah," said Oliver, holding his hands out to the little fire he'd started. "Nice to be warm. And speaking of warm..." He launched into another extremely implausible story about a time he had fought off a grizzly bear that was threatening a beautiful young woman.
Pete shook his head in amazement. "Does he ever shut up?" he said sotto voce to Kal.
"You've known him as long as I have," Kal answered. He looked at Bruce, who was watching Oliver. It was strange, but the two men seemed similar somehow. It made no sense, they were total opposites: dark and fair, silent and loquacious. Yet there seemed to be more behind Oliver's chatter than the ramblings of an empty blowhard. Kal sincerely doubted that Oliver was no more than the glib, arrogant braggart across the fire.
"I'm beginning to suspect that he's secretly the Bat," Pete whispered loudly. "It's the only explanation."
Oliver's expression was very serious for just a moment. "Don't joke about that," he said, glancing out at the dark. He looked back and smiled again, bright and glittering. "Have I told you about the time I wooed an overseer's favorite concubine away from him while hiding under his bed?"
Pete laughed again and Oliver started to detail the lady's charms, but broke off as a gust of wind rattled the flimsy lean-to and curled in to make the fire spark and flare. A flash of light in the distance was followed by a low rumble of thunder, and the rain picked up on the roof "Here's to good company on a stormy night," Oliver said, lifting his tin cup in a salute. They fell silent, listening to the howling of the wind through the trees outside, punctuated by the sound of limbs snapping now and then.
Suddenly Kal stiffened. "Did you hear that?" he said. The other three looked blank. "I heard someone crying."
"It's just the wind," said Oliver.
"No," Kal said, looking at Bruce. "It's not."
Bruce frowned and shook his head slightly. "The storm can sound like--"
Kal stood up. "I'll be right back," he said, and plunged out into the torrent.
He hadn't made it more than a few yards when a hand grabbed at his elbow; he turned to see Bruce there, already soaked with rain, the wind lashing his face. "It's too dangerous!" Bruce yelled over the scream of the wind. "You can't risk revealing--"
"I can't shut off my hearing!" Kal retorted, then pulled away and headed into the woods.
Branches tore at his clothes and slashed across his face; he limited his speed but couldn't silence the sound of someone sobbing, a tiny sound in the depths of the raging storm. He drew closer, until a flash of lightning revealed a figure huddled at the base of a tree--a girl, her face contorted with terror at the sight of him. "Sh," he said. "I won't hurt you," but he wasn't sure if she could hear him over the wind and thunder.
Below the roar of the storm and the girl's hopeless sobbing, he heard another sound: voices speaking in Kryptonian. < Did you hear that? > one said, and Kal froze, gathering the girl up instinctively in his arms.
Then a hand was on his shoulder, and Kal looked over to see Bruce there, his eyes narrowed against the wind and slashing rain. Kal hadn't heard him approaching. They're coming, he mouthed into the howling wind, but Bruce was already taking out the little silver pearls that buffered against sound and setting them into motion.
The girl stared at the spheres, but Bruce pushed both her and Kal down into a hollow in the tree, making them as inconspicuous as possible, and they all went motionless as the rain and wind pummeled them. Kal could feel the girl's heartbeat against his chest, could feel Bruce's breath on the back of his neck. They waited there, silent and still, until Kal heard the Kryptonian searchers move on, until the storm started to die down.
: : :
The girl's teeth chattered against the tin cup of coffee Pete had given her. The firelight revealed a girl barely in her teens, with a narrow, alert face framed by waves of dripping red hair. Oliver wrapped a blanket around her shivering frame, all his Casanova affectation entirely gone. "I'm Oliver, this is Pete and Bruce, and our friend with the very sharp hearing is Clark," he said.
"I'm B-B-Barbara," she managed, huddling down into her blanket. Her eyes were still filled with fear.
"You're safe here," Bruce said. His voice allowed no doubt on the matter. "We won't let anyone hurt you."
For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then she bit her lower lip--hard--and nodded. "Father sent me away," she said. "Hath-Okh, my owner--he--he wanted--" The tin cup in her hands started shaking again, threatening to slosh over the rim. "I told father I'd rather die. He told me to head west and keep going." She put down the cup and reached into a pocket; took out a small silver compass. "He gave me this. It's all I have left--" There was a long, pained silence. The compass sent off silver glints of light as it trembled in the firelight.
"Well," said Pete after a while. "You're in luck, since we're heading west ourselves." He looked at Bruce. "She'll come with us, right?"
"Of course she will!" Oliver announced, clapping Pete on the back and beaming.
Bruce nodded slowly. "We'll need to hit the road soon and put as much distance between us and here as possible. But first--" He looked at the girl. "--That red hair is far too conspicuous." He turned to Pete. "There was a walnut tree near the road. Go collect a bunch of fallen walnuts."
A few hours later Barbara's hair was a dark brown and they were packing up to go, casting nervous glances at the sky. "If they stop us, she's got no papers," Pete said, worrying his lower lip.
Oliver rummaged in his bag and came up with a folded piece of paper. He held it out with a flourish to Barbara. "I just so happen to have some...spare papers. The lady they belong to doesn't need them at the moment, so..." He squinted comically at the Kryptonian writing. "The lady's name is Dinah. Can you go by Dinah?"
Barbara nodded and took the papers. "Dinah," she whispered.
Oliver looked a bit worried as he spoke to Bruce. "Dinah's older than she is. I'm not sure she'll be able to pass--"
"Kryptonians have a hard time judging human ages," Kal said. "It's the longer lifespan. She should be okay."
"You've spent time around Kryptonians?" Pete asked, rolling up a blanket. "Is it true they're like gods?"
"Hardly," Bruce snorted.
"You've never met a Kryptonian?" Kal asked.
Pete flashed him a grin. "I've never even left Smallville until a few weeks ago. And I don't think the Kryptonian that owns the Smallville plantation's been there in my lifetime." He started to move toward the truck. "Nope, never seen a Kryp in my life, and that's fine with me."
Kal followed behind more slowly.
: : :
They made good time; Bruce pushed past plantations, hoping to put as much space as possible between "Dinah" and the last known location of the red-haired runaway. But their progress wasn't linear. Washed-out bridges and impassible roads forced them to strike off on detours and sidetracks, and when the sun began to set Bruce announced that they were still a full day's drive from Smallville.
"But also a full day's drive from where anyone last saw our lovely young friend," said Oliver, stretching. He peeked into the back of the truck, where Barbara was curled up asleep on the floor. "She must have been totally exhausted, she's slept all day," he said.
"Let her sleep a little longer," said Bruce. "We'll set up camp right here by the truck."
The smell of cooking food eventually drew Barbara from the truck, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She took her place at the fire and Pete handed her a cup of stew. "Thank you," she said. "You're all very kind." Kal saw her touch the pocket in her coat where her father's compass was hidden, her eyes sad.
"We humans gotta stick together," Pete said cheerfully.
"What's it like?" Barbara asked. "Smallville, I mean?"
Pete chuckled, a sound with a hint of irony to it. "A few weeks ago, I would have said 'the most boring place on Earth.'" But now that I've seen a few other plantations..." He smiled, his eyes far away. "It's a good place. Quiet. The overseers are good people. Aren't they, Clark?"
Clark had been expecting the question, so he was ready for it. "Ma and Pa do their best."
"Smallville's a special place," Pete said. "It's--well, you'll see when we get there."
"I'm looking forward to it," Barbara said.
They finished the meal and rolled out blankets. The sky was clear tonight, studded with brilliant stars, and Kal stared up into them, feeling his companions settling in around him. There was a sudden mournful, reedy sound, and Kal looked over to see Pete holding a harmonica, testing out quavering notes. He took a breath and started on a melody; after a moment Oliver started to sing.
My life flows on in endless song
Above earth's lamentation...
His voice was unschooled but pleasant as the notes lifted into the night, against the stars. Barbara and Bruce soon joined in, her sweet light voice and his baritone mingling:
When tyrants tremble, sick with fear,
And hear their death-knell ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near,
How can I keep from singing?
Kal listened to their voices and looked at the heavens. He wished he could join in, but he didn't know the words. It wasn't his song. The stars glittered, far away and remote, and Kal closed his eyes and felt his chest tighten with a grief he couldn't name, couldn't express.
As the song came to an end, Bruce said to Pete, "Do you know this one?" He started on a new song, and Pete joined in right away, Barbara and Oliver following along: We shall overcome, we shall overcome, we shall overcome someday..."
The song was simple, the words repeated as a sort of call and response, and Kal realized it was a song created so anyone could sing along right away. By the second verse he'd lifted his voice in harmony with the others, following Bruce's lead: We'll walk hand in hand, someday. Here in my heart, I do believe...
He looked over the fire to see Bruce's eyes on him as their voices blended.
We'll walk hand in hand someday.
Pairing/Characters: Kal/Bruce
Notes: "The House of the Earth" is an AU in which a few thousand Kryptonians escaped the destruction of Krypton to flee to Earth and conquer its people.
Rating: G
Word Count: 2600
Summary: On the way to Smallville, Kal and Bruce pick up some companions.
Bruce slowed the truck as he pulled up alongside a young man in a dusty jeans jacket walking down the road. "Need a lift?"
The man looked up at the cab and grinned, his hazel eyes sharp under a thatch of unruly blond hair. "I could use one, perhaps. Depends on where you're going."
"To which House are you bound, brother?"
The man's smile widened, and instead of answering the rote question with the name of the House, he said, "Why, to the greatest House of all, brother."
As Kal stared in confusion, Bruce said easily, "Then you must be bound for the House of the Earth."
"I am indeed," said the traveler.
"Hop in," said Bruce, tilting his head toward the back of the truck.
The man clambered into the back of the flatbed, tossing his backpack in. "Name's Pete," he called through the back window as he sat down in the back.
"I'm Bruce, this is Clark."
Pete grinned at Kal. "Where you headed?"
Kal found himself smiling back. "We're headed a ways west still. Going to see my folks in Smallville, they run the plantation there. Haven't been back for years."
Pete arranged his backpack on the bed of the truck and sat down on it. "That's interesting," he said. "Because I'm from Smallville. Born and raised there." He looked up and met Kal's horrified eyes. "And Jonathan and Martha don't have any son I know of." There was a long pause, and then the smile stretched his mouth again. "But if they're willing to vouch for you when we get there, I'll assume they've got a good reason...brother."
Kal saw Bruce let out a small breath of relief. "Thank you," he said.
Pete waved a dismissive hand. "There aren't many people on the plantation been there their whole life, we've got a lot of people coming and going. I don't think anyone else will call you on it. But I'll tell you what," he said, "Come back here and I'll fill you in on some of the names and things you should know, so you'll be more convincing." His smile went a little wistful. "I'd love to talk about home."
Kal moved into the back of the truck and he and Pete spent the time between stops talking about Pete's home. After a couple of hours, Kal felt like he'd practically been there. Pete described every building, every dog, every place a young boy would love to play, fields of corn and wheat and soybeans.
"Wait, what about the iao?"
Pete chuckled. "We're so far away from any major city it isn't worth the time to grow it. We mostly grow food for other plantations. Vegetables. Fruit. Jonathan's pumpkins are unbelievable."
From Pete's descriptions it quickly became clear to Kal that Smallville was like no plantation he'd seen or heard of. Out in the middle of the continent, far from any of the areas Kryptonians lived, Jonathan and Martha "oversaw" something much closer to a community farm than a plantation. And more--a major stop on the underground network of connections among the slave community. From the way Pete described the movement of people on and off the plantation, it seemed very likely that Smallville housed runaways, runaways that stopped there for a time to rest and help and then moved on...where?
Smallville was a mystery, and Kal had the impression there were still-greater mysteries beyond it.
At their third stop for the day, Bruce picked up another passenger claiming his destination was "the House of the Earth.". The new arrival was also blond, with green eyes and a small goatee. Oliver turned out to be just as talkative as Pete, but with a difference: where Pete mostly wanted to talk about his home, Oliver seemed much more interested in talking about himself. The rest of the day was a constant stream of stories about Oliver's heroic exploits, most of which seemed to involve bedding some very grateful woman at the end of it. The other three listened rather incredulously during their stops, with Pete casting Kal "can you believe this guy?" looks every few minutes. His casual camraderie both warmed and embarrassed Kal; he found he liked Pete a lot and was increasingly uncomfortable with his deception. The silver collar around his neck reminded him that it was Clark Pete was becoming friends with--Clark, a fellow human, not an alien in disguise.
As night fell, Oliver and Pete were still with them, so they pulled off the road at a shelter, a tiny lean-to with a small fireplace. "Just in time," Oliver said, looking at the sky; storm clouds were massing on the horizon and the wind was starting to pick up. They finished moving into the shelter just as the first drops of rain began to spatter the ground.
"Ah," said Oliver, holding his hands out to the little fire he'd started. "Nice to be warm. And speaking of warm..." He launched into another extremely implausible story about a time he had fought off a grizzly bear that was threatening a beautiful young woman.
Pete shook his head in amazement. "Does he ever shut up?" he said sotto voce to Kal.
"You've known him as long as I have," Kal answered. He looked at Bruce, who was watching Oliver. It was strange, but the two men seemed similar somehow. It made no sense, they were total opposites: dark and fair, silent and loquacious. Yet there seemed to be more behind Oliver's chatter than the ramblings of an empty blowhard. Kal sincerely doubted that Oliver was no more than the glib, arrogant braggart across the fire.
"I'm beginning to suspect that he's secretly the Bat," Pete whispered loudly. "It's the only explanation."
Oliver's expression was very serious for just a moment. "Don't joke about that," he said, glancing out at the dark. He looked back and smiled again, bright and glittering. "Have I told you about the time I wooed an overseer's favorite concubine away from him while hiding under his bed?"
Pete laughed again and Oliver started to detail the lady's charms, but broke off as a gust of wind rattled the flimsy lean-to and curled in to make the fire spark and flare. A flash of light in the distance was followed by a low rumble of thunder, and the rain picked up on the roof "Here's to good company on a stormy night," Oliver said, lifting his tin cup in a salute. They fell silent, listening to the howling of the wind through the trees outside, punctuated by the sound of limbs snapping now and then.
Suddenly Kal stiffened. "Did you hear that?" he said. The other three looked blank. "I heard someone crying."
"It's just the wind," said Oliver.
"No," Kal said, looking at Bruce. "It's not."
Bruce frowned and shook his head slightly. "The storm can sound like--"
Kal stood up. "I'll be right back," he said, and plunged out into the torrent.
He hadn't made it more than a few yards when a hand grabbed at his elbow; he turned to see Bruce there, already soaked with rain, the wind lashing his face. "It's too dangerous!" Bruce yelled over the scream of the wind. "You can't risk revealing--"
"I can't shut off my hearing!" Kal retorted, then pulled away and headed into the woods.
Branches tore at his clothes and slashed across his face; he limited his speed but couldn't silence the sound of someone sobbing, a tiny sound in the depths of the raging storm. He drew closer, until a flash of lightning revealed a figure huddled at the base of a tree--a girl, her face contorted with terror at the sight of him. "Sh," he said. "I won't hurt you," but he wasn't sure if she could hear him over the wind and thunder.
Below the roar of the storm and the girl's hopeless sobbing, he heard another sound: voices speaking in Kryptonian. < Did you hear that? > one said, and Kal froze, gathering the girl up instinctively in his arms.
Then a hand was on his shoulder, and Kal looked over to see Bruce there, his eyes narrowed against the wind and slashing rain. Kal hadn't heard him approaching. They're coming, he mouthed into the howling wind, but Bruce was already taking out the little silver pearls that buffered against sound and setting them into motion.
The girl stared at the spheres, but Bruce pushed both her and Kal down into a hollow in the tree, making them as inconspicuous as possible, and they all went motionless as the rain and wind pummeled them. Kal could feel the girl's heartbeat against his chest, could feel Bruce's breath on the back of his neck. They waited there, silent and still, until Kal heard the Kryptonian searchers move on, until the storm started to die down.
: : :
The girl's teeth chattered against the tin cup of coffee Pete had given her. The firelight revealed a girl barely in her teens, with a narrow, alert face framed by waves of dripping red hair. Oliver wrapped a blanket around her shivering frame, all his Casanova affectation entirely gone. "I'm Oliver, this is Pete and Bruce, and our friend with the very sharp hearing is Clark," he said.
"I'm B-B-Barbara," she managed, huddling down into her blanket. Her eyes were still filled with fear.
"You're safe here," Bruce said. His voice allowed no doubt on the matter. "We won't let anyone hurt you."
For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then she bit her lower lip--hard--and nodded. "Father sent me away," she said. "Hath-Okh, my owner--he--he wanted--" The tin cup in her hands started shaking again, threatening to slosh over the rim. "I told father I'd rather die. He told me to head west and keep going." She put down the cup and reached into a pocket; took out a small silver compass. "He gave me this. It's all I have left--" There was a long, pained silence. The compass sent off silver glints of light as it trembled in the firelight.
"Well," said Pete after a while. "You're in luck, since we're heading west ourselves." He looked at Bruce. "She'll come with us, right?"
"Of course she will!" Oliver announced, clapping Pete on the back and beaming.
Bruce nodded slowly. "We'll need to hit the road soon and put as much distance between us and here as possible. But first--" He looked at the girl. "--That red hair is far too conspicuous." He turned to Pete. "There was a walnut tree near the road. Go collect a bunch of fallen walnuts."
A few hours later Barbara's hair was a dark brown and they were packing up to go, casting nervous glances at the sky. "If they stop us, she's got no papers," Pete said, worrying his lower lip.
Oliver rummaged in his bag and came up with a folded piece of paper. He held it out with a flourish to Barbara. "I just so happen to have some...spare papers. The lady they belong to doesn't need them at the moment, so..." He squinted comically at the Kryptonian writing. "The lady's name is Dinah. Can you go by Dinah?"
Barbara nodded and took the papers. "Dinah," she whispered.
Oliver looked a bit worried as he spoke to Bruce. "Dinah's older than she is. I'm not sure she'll be able to pass--"
"Kryptonians have a hard time judging human ages," Kal said. "It's the longer lifespan. She should be okay."
"You've spent time around Kryptonians?" Pete asked, rolling up a blanket. "Is it true they're like gods?"
"Hardly," Bruce snorted.
"You've never met a Kryptonian?" Kal asked.
Pete flashed him a grin. "I've never even left Smallville until a few weeks ago. And I don't think the Kryptonian that owns the Smallville plantation's been there in my lifetime." He started to move toward the truck. "Nope, never seen a Kryp in my life, and that's fine with me."
Kal followed behind more slowly.
: : :
They made good time; Bruce pushed past plantations, hoping to put as much space as possible between "Dinah" and the last known location of the red-haired runaway. But their progress wasn't linear. Washed-out bridges and impassible roads forced them to strike off on detours and sidetracks, and when the sun began to set Bruce announced that they were still a full day's drive from Smallville.
"But also a full day's drive from where anyone last saw our lovely young friend," said Oliver, stretching. He peeked into the back of the truck, where Barbara was curled up asleep on the floor. "She must have been totally exhausted, she's slept all day," he said.
"Let her sleep a little longer," said Bruce. "We'll set up camp right here by the truck."
The smell of cooking food eventually drew Barbara from the truck, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She took her place at the fire and Pete handed her a cup of stew. "Thank you," she said. "You're all very kind." Kal saw her touch the pocket in her coat where her father's compass was hidden, her eyes sad.
"We humans gotta stick together," Pete said cheerfully.
"What's it like?" Barbara asked. "Smallville, I mean?"
Pete chuckled, a sound with a hint of irony to it. "A few weeks ago, I would have said 'the most boring place on Earth.'" But now that I've seen a few other plantations..." He smiled, his eyes far away. "It's a good place. Quiet. The overseers are good people. Aren't they, Clark?"
Clark had been expecting the question, so he was ready for it. "Ma and Pa do their best."
"Smallville's a special place," Pete said. "It's--well, you'll see when we get there."
"I'm looking forward to it," Barbara said.
They finished the meal and rolled out blankets. The sky was clear tonight, studded with brilliant stars, and Kal stared up into them, feeling his companions settling in around him. There was a sudden mournful, reedy sound, and Kal looked over to see Pete holding a harmonica, testing out quavering notes. He took a breath and started on a melody; after a moment Oliver started to sing.
My life flows on in endless song
Above earth's lamentation...
His voice was unschooled but pleasant as the notes lifted into the night, against the stars. Barbara and Bruce soon joined in, her sweet light voice and his baritone mingling:
When tyrants tremble, sick with fear,
And hear their death-knell ringing,
When friends rejoice both far and near,
How can I keep from singing?
Kal listened to their voices and looked at the heavens. He wished he could join in, but he didn't know the words. It wasn't his song. The stars glittered, far away and remote, and Kal closed his eyes and felt his chest tighten with a grief he couldn't name, couldn't express.
As the song came to an end, Bruce said to Pete, "Do you know this one?" He started on a new song, and Pete joined in right away, Barbara and Oliver following along: We shall overcome, we shall overcome, we shall overcome someday..."
The song was simple, the words repeated as a sort of call and response, and Kal realized it was a song created so anyone could sing along right away. By the second verse he'd lifted his voice in harmony with the others, following Bruce's lead: We'll walk hand in hand, someday. Here in my heart, I do believe...
He looked over the fire to see Bruce's eyes on him as their voices blended.
We'll walk hand in hand someday.
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Date: 2009-03-17 11:55 pm (UTC)